


The Colour of Everything

by FloreatCastellum



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1970s, Canon Compliant, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Gen, Marauders, Marauders Friendship, Marauders' Era, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Werewolf, post—hogwarts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-09-02 11:23:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8665666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloreatCastellum/pseuds/FloreatCastellum
Summary: For Remus Lupin, the Order of the Phoenix offers thrilling adventure and a sense of purpose, but the bitter war with You-Know-Who may cost him more than he can imagine... A canon compliant account of Remus Lupin's life, from Hogwarts onwards.





	1. Chapter 1

He breathed in. The air was cool for a summer’s evening. It reached into his lungs and refreshed him, filling him the scent of pine and cold water. He turned away from the lake slightly, looking back up at the sheer cliff face and there, high above him, the rough walls of the castle. 

It looked almost intimidating from this angle, even with the soft glow of the setting sun, but his love for it tempered the brief excitement he had felt. He wondered how he could he leave this place of safety and friendship, the one place that had been a continuous sanctuary for so many years. Would the excitement he felt for the future that lay before him come to anything at all? 

‘Cheer up, Moony!’ A bright, teasing voice came from behind with a firm hand clapping onto his shoulder. ‘You look like you’re on the way to the gallows!’ 

He grinned at James, and allowed him to roughly pull him closer to the shore, where tiny boats bobbed and rocked in the shallows. ‘I’m just sad to leave! Aren’t you sad to leave?’ 

‘Pfft, I’ll only be sad once the memories of those horrible exams have gone. Until then, I’m top notch. And excited about going in these diddy boats again.’ 

‘They’ve shrunk ‘em,’ said Peter, hands in his pockets and frowning in mock annoyance. ‘They were definitely bigger before.’ 

‘And here I was, hoping I could share with you, Wormtail,’ said Sirius.

‘You said you would share with me!’ exclaimed James, appalled.

‘What, you’re not sharing with Evans?’ 

‘Now, now,’ said Remus placating them with an arm over each of their shoulders. ‘We could all try and squeeze into one. Except you, Padfoot, none of us want your fleas.’

Sirius’s witty retort was lost to Hagrid’s booming call for them to board the boats. ‘One each!’ he called. ‘I’m lookin’ at yeh lot!’ He added hastily, pointing a giant finger at James and Sirius, who were grinning cockily. 

They had all grown so considerably since their first year that Remus was rather unsure that the boat would take his weight. It certainly wobbled a lot as he tentatively stepped into it, and Peter laughed so much at his lack of grace that Sirius kindly reached into the icy water to splash him in chastisement. This triggered a battle of sorts between them, one that Remus was thankful to not be included in. James was on the other side of him, but he was twisted away as he chatted enthusiastically to Lily. 

In the moment of peace from his friends, he looked out across the lake. The water was still, but the low light that hit it still shimmered and danced across the surface. Despite his nervousness about leaving, he couldn’t help the small smile that came to his face, the pride as he thought of his exam results, the friends he had made, and his parents awaiting him on the other side. 

The boats gave an odd shudder and a lurch forward; he heard Peter yelp as he was thrown backwards slightly, but he was hardly the only one. There was a roar of laughter far off from the Hufflepuffs, and Remus thought he could see a large splash and a pair of legs wriggling over the back of a boat. 

Now James turned back to grin at his friends, and Remus grinned back at him. The boats, after their sudden start, glided easily over the water. The excitable buzzing from the graduating students slipped into a quiet, appreciative awe; even James managed to stop talking to Lily. Many looked over their shoulders back at the castle. Remus kept staring forward, worried that he might not be able to hold it together if he looked again, and surely the others would tease him, but he could see the castle spires and battlements reflected in the glassy water anyway. A thousand memories were storming through his mind, overloading him with every emotion possible, spiralling into disconnected glimpses of scenes, barely there before they were gone to the next one. 

The musty smell of the Shrieking Shack, the roar of the crowd at the Quidditch pitch. The mouth-watering taste of rice pudding after dinner, the snap of twigs under his paw. Lily and James’s ridiculous kiss in the middle of the Great Hall, the time Sirius accidentally turned Peter’s hair snowy white. Running his fingers along the spines of old books in the library, the scratch of quills on parchment. The way his friends had accepted him, completely and without question, and the month they had spent in silence, mandrake leaves in their mouths, just to give him comfort during long and painful nights. 

He noticed his cheek was wet, and he brushed it away quickly, hoping no one had noticed, but his friends all seemed lost in thought too. The slight spray of the water from lake hit the back of his hand, which gripped hold of the wooden side of the boat tightly. He released it, and trailed his fingers into the cold water, enjoying the way it felt like something luxurious. He heard gasps, and his head snapped up. 

The water ahead was rippling; the Giant Squid had come to say goodbye. The students waved and shouted cheerfully at it, and it raised a monstrous tentacle into the air, bringing it back down with an almighty, slapping crash. The power of the ripple it produced made their boats bob over the wave, Remus stretched out both arms to brace himself against the sides as he laughed. 

‘Bye bye, Siddy!’ he heard Lily call, delighted. 

‘You named the squid?’ James said, laughing incredulously. Lily merely giggled in response, her nose scrunching. 

Sooner than Remus had expected, the shore of the lake came into a view. They were still too far away to see clearly, but he could hear the cheering and clapping crowd of families that awaited their arrival. Now the students shouted and waved too, some even stood up shakily in their boats. Only Sirius neglected to share in the celebrations, instead sitting sullenly in his boat. James leaned forward to look past Remus at him. 

‘You come with me, Padfoot, yeah? Mum’ll kill me if she can’t give you a hug.’ 

Sirius gave a rueful smile in response. 

Remus spotted his parents, their proud faces, and they hurried along the shoreline to line up with his incoming boat. He laughed as he waved back to his father, his mother bouncing between grinning at him and gazing up in wonder at the castle behind him, her mouth open in a delighted smile. 

‘Here we go, Moony!’ shouted Sirius as they came close to the shore. 

There was a crunching scrape of pebbles against the base of his boat as it heaved itself onto the shore. He began to climb out, as undignified as everyone else, but his father rushed forward, grasping his hand to pull him up.

‘Congratulations, son,’ he said, his moustache bristling above his smile as he clapped Remus on the back. ‘Very well done.’

‘Thanks, Dad, I-’

But his mother had flung herself at him, hugging him tightly, squealing with delight. He laughed as he hugged her back, permitting her to reach up and cup his face as she kissed his cheeks. ‘My special boy, I can’t believe it, I’m so proud!’

‘Thanks,’ Remus replied, beaming happily. ‘What d’you think of the castle, Mum?’

‘Oh, it’s beautiful,’ she said dreamily looking back at it. ‘You’re such a lucky boy, look at it, I’ve never seen anything so stunning!’

He turned back, for yet another ‘one last look’. The stone walls looked almost pink in the low, yellowish light. 

He looked at his fellow students, all of them embracing their parents or having photos taken. But they were not students anymore, he thought, as he watched Mrs Potter hug Sirius. They were now adults, finished with school, finished with all of this. 

‘Didn’t Tuney come?’ he heard Lily ask her parents, and he looked in time to see her crestfallen face. 

‘Mum,’ he said suddenly. ‘Come and meet my friend Lily. Her parents are Muggles too.’ 

He introduced them, and soon Sirius and the Potter family had joined them too, and the Pettigrews, and before long he was being cajoled into a group photo, all the Marauder boys arm in arm, laughing at the camera. 

‘Get a copy of that for me, won’t you Mrs Potter?’ he heard Sirius ask brightly. 

‘Of course I will. You’ll all get a copy.’

‘And what now, eh?’ Mr Pettigrew was asking them all. ‘Any jobs lined up? No more summer holidays for you, chaps. Into the real world now.’ 

‘I might go into Healing, if I can get onto the training programme,’ said Lily brightly. ‘James thinks I’d be good at it, don’t you, James?’ 

‘Of course, you’d be good at anything,’ said James, and Sirius rolled his eyes haughtily behind him. 

‘I hear you’ve applied to Flourish and Blotts, Remus,’ said Mrs Potter. ‘What a lovely job that would be.’ 

‘I have my interview next week,’ he replied. 

‘We’ve saved up for some new robes for him,’ said his mother, beaming up at him. ‘You’ll look so smart, Remus, they’d be fools not to hire you.’ 

‘I probably won’t get anything,’ said Peter miserably. ‘I haven’t had any responses to my owls yet, I won’t get a job at all.’

‘Course you will, Pete,’ said Sirius swiftly. ‘There’s always Magical Maintenance!’

‘But I don’t want to work with you,’ retorted Peter, and everyone entertained themselves by watching their friendly squabble, until Remus’s father place a firm, warm hand on his shoulder. 

‘Come take a walk with your old man,’ he said quietly. 

Remus followed him, away from the cheerful crowd, a slight lurch in his stomach. They walked in silence for a little while, along the edge of the mirror-like lake.  
‘Congratulations on your interview,’ said Lyall mildly. 

‘Right… Yeah, thanks.’ 

‘I think it would suit you very well.’ 

Remus nodded, but said nothing. An unspoken truth danced tauntingly around the edge of his father’s words. It _would_ suit him. If things had been different. 

‘And I suppose it will give you great experience… For future jobs…’ Remus knew what was coming before Lyall said it. His father always went slightly red when the topic came up. ‘I don’t know if you have given any consideration as to where you will… Where you will _be_ next week… As the Hogsmeade house won’t be accessible,’ he added when Remus said nothing. 

‘Do you mean the Shrieking Shack, Dad?’ asked Remus, staring pointedly at the ground. 

‘Well, if you must call it that, yes.’

‘That’s what everyone calls it.’ 

Lyall gave a heavy sigh, his hands deep in his pockets. ‘Do you have somewhere to go?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where?’ 

‘Oh, I thought I’d just hang around outside a Muggle primary school.’ 

‘Remus, please take this seriously,’ Lyall said sharply, stopping. He grabbed Remus’s arm and tried to turn him to face him, but Remus stubbornly rolled his head away, gazing moodily over the lake. ‘We could ask Professor Dumbledore if you could continue using the house for the summer, but it simply cannot continue when you are no longer a student here.’

‘I know that,’ Remus said. 

‘Well where will you go then? Your mother and I have been doing some research-’

‘It’s fine, Dad,’ he said dully. ‘I told you, I have somewhere.’ 

‘Where?’ 

‘It’s… It’s really remote, there won’t be anyone around-’

‘How do you know you won’t stumble across some Muggle campers? Hmm?’ 

‘That won’t happen,’ Remus muttered. He avoided his father’s gaze. ‘I’ll take precautions.’

‘You learnt the Muggle-repelling charms I sent you, then?’ When Remus simply gave a short, irritated nod, Lyall sighed again. He didn’t seem to be able to look Remus in the eye anymore, staring down at the muddy ground instead. ‘I know you think I’m… Well, I know you don’t like discussing this. But I do it because I care.’ 

‘Right,’ said Remus. ‘That’s why it couldn’t wait til I got home.’

Lyall at least had the decency to look ashamed. ‘It’s not that I don’t trust you.’ He paused, but Remus said nothing. ‘It’s that I’m growing concerned that you’re forgetting the seriousness of your condition.’

‘How could I? With you reminding me at every opportunity?’

‘Don’t think I didn’t notice your friend calling you “Moony”,’ Lyall said quietly. 

Remus simply stared at him, and swallowed slightly. ‘That… That’s a nickname for something else-’

‘Remus, don’t insult my intelligence. That’s not the only thing. Your mother noticed in your last letter you said that you were too tired to see the Quidditch final, but that “of course the others all understood”-’

‘They did, they just thought I’d had a late night…’ He faltered as his father raised a doubtful eyebrow. ‘All right. Fine. Yes, they know. They figured it out years ago. But it wasn’t as horrible as you said it would be.’

‘Remus-’

‘They didn’t shun me, or tell anyone else. They weren’t afraid. They- They supported me, Dad. They helped me. As… As best they could.’ He wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell him what it was like to see the silhouette of a rat riding a stag, to see a great black dog running alongside him in the mountains around Hogsmeade. 

‘Well, that’s very admirable, but-’

‘So maybe you’ve been wrong this whole time,’ said Remus coldly. ‘Maybe it won’t matter. Maybe I’ll get this job and be able to keep it, and live like a normal person. Maybe they wouldn’t even mind.’ 

Lyall gripped Remus’s shoulder. ‘I understand you’re angry. I understand what you want. But Remus, I don’t do this to punish you. I want you to be happy. I don’t want to see you miserable.’ 

‘This makes me miserable,’ said Remus shortly. He turned on his heel and stormed off, back to where his friends were continuing to celebrate leaving Hogwarts.

………

They had shaken off their embarrassing parents, assured them that they would return home after one swift drink, and were now settled in for a long night of getting pissed in the Three Broomsticks. 

‘Should I be worried he’s flirting?’ Lily asked, nodding over to the bar. James and Sirius were leaning against it, with Madam Rosmerta practically bent double in shrieks of laughter. 

‘Nah,’ Remus assured her. ‘It’s been their tactic to get free drinks since we were thirteen.’ 

‘I suppose so,’ said Lily. ‘I think I’m safe if he’s telling that terrible pun about the goblin-’

‘Yeah, he’s telling it,’ said Peter, shaking his head. ‘I suppose we should be grateful he’s running out of people to tell.’ 

‘He tried to tell Mary the other day. She just didn’t get it at all. He doesn’t even seem to notice. At least Rosmerta seems to find it funny,’ she added dryly as another shrieking cackle was heard from the bar. 

‘Where is Mary, anyway?’ asked Remus. ‘Did she not want to join us? What about Emmeline?’ 

‘Mary’s going out with Reg and his family, and Emmeline’s parents wanted to take her out for dinner- Oh, here they come!’

Sirius and James were cockily returning with the next round, levitating their drinks ahead of them, Sirius proudly announcing the sickle he’d managed to have knocked off the price. ‘For being a cheeky boy, she said,’ he told them smugly. 

‘Typical,’ said Remus. ‘You can’t resist, can you?’ 

Sirius held his hands up like an accused man. ‘I can’t help my natural charisma.’ 

James snorted. ‘You can help being an insatiable flirt, though. My dad reckons you’d successfully flirt with a dragon given half the chance.’

‘Well of course I would. What an achievement that would be.’ 

‘How _do_ you flirt?’ asked Peter. He ignored their laughter, and continued. ‘Every time I try and flirt with a female, they just give me a weird look and back away.’

‘Well, calling them women might be a start, Wormy,’ said Lily.

‘And perhaps talk to them about something other than your collection of chocolate frog cards,’ added James. ‘It wasn’t interesting in second year, it’s not interesting now.’

‘Hey now,’ said Sirius defensively. ‘Leave poor Wormtail alone. I have a very deep appreciation for chocolate frog cards. It’s my greatest ambition to be on one.’ 

‘Why?’

‘I dunno, marrying someone impressive or being a great wizard or something.’ 

‘He meant why do you want to be on a chocolate frog card, you plonker,’ said Remus, rolling his eyes. 

‘Well, you’ve really made it if you’re on one of them, haven’t you?’ said Sirius as Peter nodded fervently. ‘No higher honour. Any old prat can get an Order of Merlin with enough gold, look at half my family.’ 

‘Fair point, well made,’ said James. ‘I still think the pair of you are ridiculously lame though. Now, Moony,’ he said grandly, pointing at him with his pint. ‘We’ve all got plans to make.’ 

‘Plans?’ 

‘For next week. The full moon.’ 

‘Merlin’s bollocks, James, we’re in a pub, will you-’

‘No one’s listening, and no one cares about your furry little problem. But I thought we should make a thing of it.’ 

‘Excuse me?’ 

‘First one after we graduate,’ said Sirius cheerfully. ‘A whole new place and all that. Thought of anywhere?’

‘Er…’ He felt a blush rise, and found himself looking over his shoulder fervently, worried that someone might be listening. ‘Yeah, I thought I’d just apparate to the Highlands.’ 

So in sync that he was sure it must have been planned, James, Sirius and Peter all groaned and slumped in their seats; James’s throwing himself back and rolling his head onto Lily’s shoulder, Peter falling sideways to lie across the empty space on the bench next to him, Sirius’s forehead hitting the table with a loud thunk. 

‘What? What’s wrong with the Highlands?’ 

‘It’s boring as fuck, that’s what,’ said Sirius. 

‘We’ve been running round Hogsmead for years,’ added James. ‘Think outside the box a bit.’ 

‘Well what do you suggest?’ asked Remus, torn between feeling amused and completely flummoxed. ‘I assume you’ve all thought of something?’ 

‘Of course,’ said Peter promptly. 

‘Picture this,’ said James, leaning forward and holding his hands out. ‘Camping party.’ Remus began to laugh, but James continued. ‘Your furry little problem won’t be a problem until Sunday night. We should make a weekend of it. I’ve got a big tent, I know a remote place, we can build a bonfire, have some beers-’

‘And sausages,’ interrupted Sirius. 

‘Yeah, loads of food, bring a wireless along, try and find Peter a pretty Muggle girl to try and flirt with, that sort of thing. We’ll have a fun night on the Saturday, and then we’ll help you through Sunday night. Lily’s coming too, she’ll go home on Sunday evening.’ 

Remus felt very warm inside. His face ached with his smile. ‘I have my interview on the Monday,’ he said cautiously. 

‘Pfft,’ said Sirius, waving a hand. ‘You’ll be tired anyway, may as well have had a good weekend first.’ 

‘Say yes,’ said Peter imploringly. ‘One last hurrah before we all have to become adults.’ 

‘Bollocks,’ said Sirius. ‘Prongs will never grow up and I’ll do my best to avoid it. But yes, listen to Wormtail, Moony.’

‘Go on, Moony,’ added Lily warmly. ‘I’ve been so jealous of you all having these adventures, I might have to get round to trying to become… Well, you know, to join you all myself at some point.’

Remus let the silence hang in the air a little, enjoying their eager faces waiting in mock suspense. They knew his answer. ‘All right,’ he said with a smile, and they all cheered, nearly spilling their drinks as they leaned forward to hug him, clap him on the shoulder, teasingly rub his head. 

‘Knew you’d see sense,’ James was saying gleefully. 

Remus felt vindicated, more tempted than ever to reveal his friend’s illegal talents to his father and see the look on his face. He was sue his face was flushed pink, but he could only laugh into his pint as his friends leapt into planning. ‘Whose idea was this?’ he asked them. 

‘Joint effort,’ said James smoothly. Behind him, Sirius poked himself repeatedly in the chest and winked. 

‘I’m sorry to interrupt,’ came a familiar, amused voice. 

They all looked up, shocked silence falling immediately. Except for Peter, who had unfortunately just taken a gulp of beer and was now coughing and spluttering, foam coating his upper lip. 

Albus Dumbledore, in robes of purple and green patchwork, stood at the end of their table, his eyes twinkling merrily at them. ‘May I?’ 

They nodded slowly, still mildly stunned, and he sat. It was very odd seeing him outside of school. Though Remus had sat in his office many times to discuss his condition, there had always been a desk between them. It was quite another experience to have the Headmaster join you at the pub with a large glass of brandy. 

‘All celebrating, I presume?’ 

‘Yes, Professor,’ said James, who looked particularly bemused, yet far more relaxed than everyone else. Remus was suddenly aware that he was sitting bolt upright, Lily had swiftly put down her glass, as though worried she would be told off, and Peter was still trying to get his choking fit under control. Only Sirius seemed to stay lounging in his seat, though Remus noticed a certain stillness in him that betrayed the fact that he was not as confident as James. 

‘And so you should, you all did exceptionally well,’ Dumbledore said pleasantly. ‘I did partake in rather jovial celebrations myself when I finished school; it’s a long running tradition for young wizards… And witches, of course,’ he said, nodding to Lily. 

She smiled at him, and after a nervous glance to James, seemed to draw enough confidence to speak to the Headmaster directly. ‘We were just planning a weekend camping together, Professor,’ she said. 

‘Marvellous! I daresay you’ll all have tremendous fun.’ He nodded at them all one more, and raised his wand. ‘I’m sure Madam Rosmerta won’t mind if I give us a tad more privacy.’ 

It was though they had been encapsulated in an invisible bubble; suddenly Remus could hear only slight, muffled sound from the rest of the pub, though Peter’s attempts to suppress his coughs were as clear as anything. 

‘I did order us all some more drinks too,’ said Dumbledore conversationally. ‘I noticed you were all running a little low.’ He tapped the table with his wand, and a pitcher of beer and a bottle of wine appeared suddenly in the candlelight. 

‘We really appreciate this, Professor,’ said Sirius slowly…

‘But you do not have any particular desire to drink with an old teacher,’ said Dumbledore cheerfully. ‘I quite understand.’ 

‘That’s not it!’ said Lily hurriedly. 

‘My dear Miss Evans, don’t be troubled. I am made of sterner stuff. As much as I would like to sit here and simply celebrate your exam results – excellent potions grade, by the way, Professor Slughorn was very impressed – I do have a reason to speak to you all, and it just so happens that the most convenient place where you will all be together is in the pub. My guess was right, and here you are.’ 

He smiled as though this explained everything, and took a sip of his brandy. 

‘Yes, here we are,’ prompted James cautiously. 

‘Yes, here you are Mr Potter. I am sure, self-assured and confident as you are, that you are aware that the five of you were very much in the top of your year, and, though I am terribly rude to admit it, my favourites at that… Help yourselves to drinks, don’t be shy. Go on, Mr Pettigrew.’ 

Remus got the impression that Professor Dumbledore was rather enjoying their confusion. Beneath the fluffy white beard, a small smile played on his lips, and he gave a quick wink when James was the first to reach for the beer. 

‘As it happens, such clever students such as yourselves will no doubt be aware of the tremendous challenges our society faces. You may also be aware that I have taken it upon myself to do what I can to help, and that I have gathered others who wish to help fight against those who seek to harm us. I am extending the invitation to you, should you wish to accept it.’ 

‘Do you mean the Order of the Phoenix, Professor?’

‘Indeed I do, Mr Potter. I suspect your father has mentioned it, has he? I did approach him, several times, in fact.’ 

James nodded hesitantly. ‘Yes… Only dad says he promised his own father that he would never get involved in a war if he could help it.’ 

Dumbledore nodded. ‘Quite understandable, as I have said to your father. Can I take it you share his pacifist beliefs?’ 

James hesitated. ‘Well… _I_ never made any promises to Grandad Harry…’ Remus saw him glance at Sirius out of the corner of his eye, and they both had that _look_ , the same one that had appeared when they made the Marauders Map, or when they planned to become animagi. This could be their next big adventure; the prospect of it trembled in the air.

‘Sorry, Sir,’ said Lily tentatively. ‘I’m afraid I’m a little confused… The Order of the Phoenix? Are… Are you saying you want us to be involved? Isn’t it for Aurors and, you  
know…’

‘Experienced wizards,’ finished Peter. 

‘Indeed, I do have some Aurors and highly accomplished individuals under my wing. I see no reason that should prevent talented young graduates such as yourselves from joining too. Many old students have joined me straight out of Hogwarts, and you all seem well suited.’ 

‘All of us?’ said Peter, his eyes wide. ‘Even me?’

‘Of course, Mr Pettigrew. Your exam results were highly satisfactory too. Some self-belief is all you need.’

‘Professor… What exactly would be involved?’ asked Remus, who had warily spotted Sirius and James’s ever increasing excitement. ‘I’m still not clear on what exactly it is you  
want us to do.’ 

‘What you can, my dear boy. Whatever time you can spare, whatever services you may offer. I may ask for too much at times. You may be asked to risk life and limb. You may  
witness and experience horrors.’

They waited for the ‘but’. It didn’t come. 

‘I… I was thinking of going into Healing,’ said Lily, her voice small. 

Dumbledore smiled widely. ‘A fantastic and exciting career choice. And skills that are often needed in the Order. I will admit that the training programme at St Mungos may not offer you the time to be active in the Order itself… If this is the path you choose, I wish you the best of luck, and every happiness. You will make a fine Healer. But if you do join the Order, I believe you would gain very valuable experience shadowing one of our members, a very fine Healer herself.’  
She looked torn. Tempted but hesitant. They were all silent, Remus supposed that, like he, the others were hearing their parent’s warnings and fears, all the logic and nervousness that should make the choice an easy ‘no’. But the excitement bubbled under the surface. They were Gryffindors, after all. Had they not spent the last few years angry at the horrors they read in the newspaper? Did they not all fear for their loved ones? Would it not be satisfying, a tremendous adventure, to be revolutionaries in this fight against dark forces?

‘We’ve heard about it,’ said Sirius. ‘Even talked about it. But we’ve noticed a lot of the members end up dead.’

‘They do,’ said Dumbledore heavily. ‘It requires a remarkable level of bravery and belief in the cause. But what finer cause is there? Fighting against the tyranny that suffocates us. Defending against the hatred of Muggles and Muggleborns.’ 

Remarkably, it was Lily whose face now captured the blazing determination Remus would have suspected from James. 

Dumbledore surveyed them all over his spectacles as he drank the last of his brandy. ‘I suspect all of you have exciting careers ahead. I urge you to consider them all carefully, and consider whether you wish to be a part of the Order. Though I appreciate full time members, any time you can spare is time well spent. If you decline, I understand completely, though I cannot promise to not return and plead for your help in the future. You are, after all, very talented.’ 

He rose, and swept a tall wizard’s hat onto his head. ‘If you wish to join, please do send me an owl. Goodnight to you all.’ With a smile, he touched the brim of his hat and left, the sounds of the chattering pub returning abruptly in his wake.


	2. Chapter 2

She didn’t hear him when he entered. The radio was on too loudly, and she bobbed her head absent-mindedly as she painted, half singing along, her soft Welsh voice only just rising above the music. 

‘ _Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone…_ ’

‘Mum,’ he called gently, but she didn’t hear, simply stretched up and pulled an arc of vivid purple against her canvas. 

‘ _They paved paradise, put up a parking lot-_ -’

‘Mum!’ 

She finally gave a small start, turned, and beamed at him. ‘Hello, sweetheart. Like it?’ She gestured to her huge canvas, where a psychedelic flower was beginning to take shape. He nodded and smiled, and she hurried to turn the radio off, wiping her hands on a rag stained with colour.   
Hope’s art studio was simply the ramshackle shed at the bottom of the garden, full of the smell of paint and littered with old, dried up brushes, but it was her pride and joy. Remus could remember her dipping his tiny feet into paint, and encouraging him to run across canvas as a little boy. 

‘I hope this one sells,’ she said, and though her voice was bright, her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘The trouble is, people just buy prints of the popular stuff now…’ She looked him up and down. ‘You off, then?’ 

‘Yes,’ he said, glancing down to his hastily packed rucksack. ‘Thought I’d come and say bye.’ 

She looked hesitant now, but in a more gentle way than the doubtful expressions that usually crossed Lyall’s face. ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right? I’m not sure about you going for the whole weekend, you look awfully peaky. Might be a rough one.’ 

‘I’m fine,’ he assured her. ‘I told you, my friends will be there.’ Now it was his turn to hesitate, and he looked uneasily at his feet. ‘Why… Why did you tell Dad about my friends knowing? You promised you’d never tell him.’ 

Her face crumpled in sympathy. ‘You know I didn’t, sweetheart, he just saw it in one of our letters. He didn’t mean to snoop.’ He nodded, but his face must have looked miserable for she stepped forward and cupped it tenderly. ‘I think it’s wonderful. They all seemed like such nice lads. You’ve a good bunch of friends there. Your dad knows that too.’ 

He swallowed. ‘He’s surprised though, isn’t he? He thinks I just got lucky – everyone else will think I’m a monster. Sometimes I think…’ He couldn’t finish.   
Something changed in her face, a certain stiffness, a slight drop of her gaze. ‘He’s just frightened for you. Perhaps he’s a little behind the times, but better safe than sorry. Do you have everything for your interview?’ 

‘Yes. But I might Apparate home for a shower.’ 

Her eyebrows raised, and she smiled again. ‘I still find it amazing.’ She looked back at her flower. ‘Who would have thought it? A magical son.’ 

She looked back at him, and caught his eye with an amused glint. Her chuckles were contagious, and their farewell was in good spirits. He only called his goodbye to Lyall through the kitchen door as he left. 

………………..

He appeared with a loud crack at the location James had described to him. The sun was hot on his back, he desired shade almost immediately, and thought that somehow the sound of crickets made it feel warmer. A wide dirt path lay before him, flanked by a forest on one side and a thick hedge of bracken on the other, beyond which a potato field stretched over a gently rolling hill. There was not a person in sight.

James had told him to follow the path, so he hitched his bag over his shoulder and began, his feet kicking up small clouds of dirt, his eyes squinting in the bright light as he gazed across the lush green field. He had not been walking long before he saw a familiar looking stag, bounding over to him, a leaf of bracken entangled in the large antlers. 

He grinned at it as it approached. James waited until he was less than a yard away before transforming smoothly back into his human form, stumbling into Remus ungracefully and gripping his shoulder to keep balance as he laughed. 

‘You didn’t even flinch,’ he said, panting slightly as he pulled the bracken out of his hair. ‘I could have impaled you with my mighty antlers.’ 

‘You try it every time,’ said Remus. ‘It’s hardly frightening anymore.’ 

‘Ah, well,’ said James briskly. ‘Come on, I came to make sure you didn’t get lost. The lake’s just up here.’ 

He pointed along the path, where it curved into the forest. Remus followed him, his spirits high, trying not to laugh at James’s terrible jokes. 

‘I mean I’m not saying deer antlers are great, or anything,’ James was saying, ‘but they are at the top of their game.’ 

‘What?’

‘Game, get it? Like venison.’ 

Remus swore lightly. ‘You’re not funny, James, no one thinks you’re funny. You see that? I think I just saw tumbleweed roll by.’ 

‘Yeah, it’s running home to tell the whole tumbleweed family how funny my jokes are.’ 

They gently teased each other as they continued into the forest, which was far cooler than the field though vastly different to the dense, dark Forbidden Forest Remus had grown so used to. Lighter, and softer somehow. ‘Are the others here yet?’ he asked. 

‘Just me and Lily so far,’ said James, in what Remus thought was a rather poor attempt at a casual voice. 

He looked at James shrewdly. ‘How long have you been here, just the two of you?’ 

James didn’t even tried to hide his smug face. ‘A few hours,’ he said. ‘I’m telling you, Moony, this is it. It all paid off. She’s smitten with me.’ 

‘Yes, that’s the right way round,’ said Remus dryly. 

The path soon came to a sudden stop by a steep bank. Remus was initially bewildered, but James scrambled up it easily, turning back and holding out a hand. ‘Well come on then, if you need help getting up a little slope.’ 

‘Where is this place?’ asked Remus. ‘Where did you even-’

James had heaved him to the top. A long meadow of grass stretched down a soft hill, reaching a stony shore and a brilliantly blue lake. Not far from its edge, Remus could see a tepee-like tent with colourful bunting, and Lily lying on the grass outside it reading. 

‘Nice, isn’t it?’ said James. ‘Came here camping with Mum and Dad a few times.’

Remus nodded a little dumbly. ‘Yeah, it’s… It’s really nice. Good call.’

‘Right, the others should be here any minute and I’ve already set up the Muggle-repelling charms. You go down and join Lily, I better go back and make sure Padfoot and Wormtail haven’t fallen in a ditch or something.’ 

He clapped Remus on the shoulder once more and gave him a light push, sending Remus stumbling into a walk down to the tent. They could have hardly picked a more beautiful spot, and, with a sudden rush of fierce gratitude to his friends, he was glad he could spend time here before transforming. 

‘What are you reading?’ he asked Lily as he approached. 

She smiled up at him, her eyes hidden behind oversized round sunglasses. ‘Afternoon,’ she greeted cheerily. ‘Hector Headworth, Heroic Warlock of Hampshire. Trying to catch up on wizarding fiction. Read it?’

He dumped his bag and sat lazily beside her. ‘Of course. Standard bedtime reading for young wizarding boys between the ages of six and eight.’ 

‘And witches.’

‘And witches, of course, excuse me.’ He looked out across the lake as a mischievous thought came to mind. ‘James said the pair of you have been here a few hours,’ he said slyly.

‘Yes,’ she said, suddenly alert.

‘Had, er… Had fun, have you?’

‘I don’t know what you’re insinuating,’ she said in a dignified sort of way, returning to her book. 

He chuckled, and leaned back. As he did, his hand rested on something hard. ‘Is this your wand?’ he said, lifting it up. 

He couldn’t see her eyes behind her sunglasses, but he could tell from her expression that she was rolling her eyes. ‘Bloody James, he leaves that lying about everywhere. How has he not lost it yet?’

He stayed with Lily, and they chatted lightly together before the rest of the Marauders arrived, bottles clinking in the bag Peter carried. A tartan blanket was thrown across the meadow, the butterbeers were shared round, Sirius and James argued over who got to be in charge of the barbeque. They ate leisurely, the heat of the sun and the barbeque drawing them into a lazy happiness, their conversation easy and slow, hazy plans of getting a flat together in London gradually forming.   
It was Sirius that suggested the skinny dipping. He insisted that it was the hot sun, that the lake looked inviting, and he needed to cool off. They all laughed, and told him he was a pervert, that he just wanted everyone to be naked because that’s all he ever wanted in life, and that no doubt he’d been planning this come rain or shine.

‘Well we can keep our pants on then!’ he argued, his voice only just audible above their friendly jeers. 

The boys were so busy taunting him that they almost didn’t notice Lily stand up. 

To James’s shocked exclamation, and Sirius’s bark of laughter, Lily grasped the hem of her sundress and pulled it over her head. She left it in a yellow pool at her feet, and, in her underwear, began to run to the lake. 

‘Well come on then, you cowards!’ she shouted over her shoulder. 

‘Unbelievable,’ muttered James, shaking his head, but he rose too, pulling his shirt over his head and following her. 

Sirius was howling with laughter and eagerly stripping off, Peter gave a shrug and a smirk and began to copy. Remus was laughing too, listening to the sound of splashing and Lily’s shrieks, watching Sirius charging down to the shoreline in pursuit. He stood too, but walked down to the water. He watched James lift Lily over his shoulder, she was yelling in laughter, her sunglasses still on and her hair swinging, they toppled backwards ungracefully with an almighty splash. 

‘Come on, Moony!’ shouted Peter, who was wobbly floating on his back. 

‘Yeah, hurry up, you daft prick,’ called Sirius affectionately. 

He smiled weakly at them. He wanted to join them. He had only ever swam with his mother, out of sight of everyone else, he’d never mucked about in the water like that. His feet were almost touching the cold, gently rippling edge. Now he was close, he could see that the lake was man made, perhaps an old quarry. The shallow, smooth edge dropped suddenly into dark blue after just a few yards. Unconsciously, his hands were lightly tugging at his own clothes, his lips pressed together in anticipation. But beneath the envy and excitement and amusement, a sort of fear pounded, a sickness in his stomach. For years he had awkwardly changed behind the curtains of his four-poster. It had not always worked, they had seen him transform dozens of times after all, but his friends had only seen accidentally. It was quite different to unashamedly stripping off. 

‘I won’t look at your bum, Moony,’ said Lily cheekily. 

‘Wormtail will,’ added Sirius, and he leapt out the way as Peter tried to playfully attack him. 

They don’t care, he told himself. They don’t care, they don’t care, they don’t care…

He could see his father’s anxious face, hear his voice reminding him that the good thing about them was that they were confined to his stomach and chest, that no one would ever be able to see them. ‘You’ll even be able to roll your sleeves up when it’s hot,’ he had said. ‘Isn’t that a marvellous thing?’

‘Fuck,’ he muttered to himself, and he took a breath and joined them. He undressed and plunged himself into the cold water as quickly as possible, still absurdly hoping they wouldn’t see the lines of red and white that blemished him. He threw himself underwater, the rumbling rush of the water surrounding him, the heaviness of it, he opened his eyes to a world slowed down, lit in green and yellow. He twisted as he swam deeper, on his back now, looking up to the surface, watching a stream of bubbles dancing after him as he breathed out through his nose. Legs, and feet, and Lily’s deep red hair swelling around her as she dived too.

He came up, gasping for air. ‘It’s bloody freezing!’ he accused them. They laughed. If they saw the scars on his chest, no one said anything at all. 

………….

As the summer evening descended, Remus felt the usual feverish symptoms rising. The water had soothed his aching muscles before, but now, dry and sitting around the campfire listening to the wireless (rather tipsy as well), he was struggling. He thought he saw the others throwing occasional concerned glances at him as he increasingly lounged lower, exhausted. 

‘Do you want to go to bed, Moony?’ asked Lily. 

‘No,’ he replied, feeling slightly embarrassed. ‘It’s not even eight yet.’ 

The fire crackled over the smooth jazz on the wireless. Peter was handing out more beer. James was lighting up a cigarette. Sirius was slowly twisting yet another sausage in the flames. ‘This one won’t catch fire,’ he said firmly. James looked pointedly at the pile of blackened sausages at Sirius’s feet, but didn’t say anything.   
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Remus now on his back with his head resting against his rucksack. He watched the sparks of the fire float up into the night sky. The moon was almost full now, like one side of it had been smudged out. He was grateful for the flecks of orange and red punctuating the black and white. 

‘The moonlight is beautiful,’ said Lily quietly. 

‘You know, the moon is actually just reflecting the sun, so it’s just sunlight,’ said James. ‘I’ve always wondered why it makes a difference to Moony’s werewolf problems.’ 

‘Would it kill you to be romantic just once?’ said Lily dryly. 

In spite of himself, Remus was laughing along with the rest of them. ‘I’ve never thought about that,’ he said to James. 

‘What would happen if we put you on the moon?’ asked Peter seriously. 

‘I… Er…’ 

‘He would die, there’s no air,’ said Sirius. 

‘We could put a bubble head charm on him,’ said James fairly. 

‘Please don’t send me to the moon.’ 

‘Merlin, Moony, where’s your sense of adventure?’ 

‘Maybe you’ll find some on the moon.’ 

‘Shh! Shh!’ Lily was suddenly hushing them urgently. They stopped chuckling and turned to her. She was leaning over to the wireless, turning it up. ‘He said something about the Midlands!’ she said. The jazz song had stopped, and a grave reporter was speaking. 

‘…Ministry statement suggests at least three Muggles are among the dead…’

‘I’m sure it’s all right, Lily,’ said James gently. ‘I’m sure you won’t know any them.’ 

But her eyes were wide in the darkness as she stared intently at the wireless, her hand still resting on the dial. 

‘The deaths have been blamed on protests relating to the closure of local steel works in order to maintain the Statute of Secrecy…’ 

‘But where is it?’ she hissed at the wireless.

‘What’s happened?’ Peter whispered to Remus. 

‘Death Eater attack, I think,’ he breathed back. 

‘…culprit was captured on scene in Corby…’

Lily suddenly gave a great sigh of relief, leaning back into James’s arms as the wireless continued to chatter away. ‘See?’ he said to her reassuringly. ‘You don’t know anyone in Corby, do you?’

She shook her head, her eyes closed. ‘I just thought… It might have been…’

‘But it’s not,’ he said firmly. ‘Come on, let’s turn it off, we don’t want to listen to the news tonight.’ 

A buzz of static and then suddenly nothing but the crackle of the fire. The atmosphere had been lost, and now they sat in silence. Remus was feeling increasingly ill, and he quietly put his beer down. James lit another cigarette, and chucked the packet to Sirius. 

‘Right then,’ he said grimly. ‘We might as well discuss it now. The Order of the Phoenix.’ 

‘I’m in,’ said Sirius promptly, the lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth. He spotted James watching him closely, and assumed a haughty expression. ‘We’re not listening to   
your parents, are we?’

‘Are they not keen on the idea, then?’ asked Remus. 

‘They have their concerns,’ said James in a measured voice. ‘They said we could still help the war effort if we became Aurors-’

‘They want to keep you safely in training for a few years, and then out of trouble as much as possible,’ said Sirius sharply. ‘Everyone knows the Ministry just does the clean ups. The only resistance left is with the Order.’

‘My parents are nervous about it too,’ said Peter. ‘My mother… She said she wouldn’t be able to bear it if anything happened.’   
Remus thought of his mother. Her art studio where she painted surreal portraits of him and his father. The way he used to hear her sobbing through the door as she heard him screaming. ‘Why doesn’t your Dad want you to do it, James?’ he asked quietly. 

‘I think he does, sort of. He does support the Order, a lot. But…’ he took another drag on his cigarette before he continued. ‘I don’t remember Grandad very much, but he was in a war, a Muggle one. Very brave, apparently, but he never liked to talk about it. Dad said growing up was tough because he’d get all worked up thinking he was there again, because of the things he’d seen. He had to promise him he’d never go to war.’ 

‘Well I want to do it,’ said Lily. She seemed aflame with righteousness, the light from the fire illuminating her hardened expression. ‘That could have been my family, or old Muggle friends. That could have been any of us. We’re not safe anyway… I’m not safe,’ she added quietly. ‘Oh, but maybe I’m being stupid, I’ll be no use-’  
James nodded, his mouth a thin line. ‘No, you’re right. We’re Gryffindors, aren’t we? We shouldn’t take this lying down. My Dad would be just as upset if I were murdered for nothing as he would if I died fighting, wouldn’t he? Maybe more. Grandad might not have wanted his son to be in a war, but even I remember him saying it was the right thing to do.’ He looked at Remus. ‘What about you, Remus?’

‘I haven’t told my parents,’ he said. ‘They worry about me enough.’

‘But will you do it?’ 

His mother would never forgive him. 

‘Yes,’ he said. 

When he looked back, in the years to come, he imagined that was the moment that they all nodded gravely, perhaps even stood heroically, their voices unified in harsh determination. He pictured that moment as the turning point in his life that would fade to black in the memories of time. In reality, they continued to talk themselves into it for much longer, convincing themselves through increasingly drunken indignation that this was the right thing to do, that their parents were wrong, that they would be fine. Rather than standing heroically, reciting rousing speeches or making solemn vows, they found themselves, several hours later, blearily watching Sirius lying on the floor, slurring the many reasons he hated Death Eaters. 

‘And another thing!’ he yelled at the sky, ‘why have they got to be so dramatic about it all? All the masks and stupid names, they’re such fucking nerds.’ 

‘Yeah,’ agreed Peter vehemently. ‘Why does You-Know-Who call himself a lord anyway? Isn’t that a Muggle thing?’ 

‘I’ve never understood that either. Besides, I’m sure I heard someone saying he was already a count,’ said James slyly. Lily and Sirius sniggered. 

‘Now Grindelwald’s men, they scrubbed up pretty well,’ said Peter. ‘None of this flamboyant stuff, just smart uniforms.’

‘Yeah, fuck all the evil stuff,’ said James sarcastically. ‘As long as they look cool, Wormtail’s on board.’

Remus was now struggling to stay awake. He could hear Lily laughing and Peter’s joking defence, but his skin was beginning to prickle and itch with heat, he found himself compulsively swallowing as though on the verge of throwing up, he was sure if he stood he would collapse.

‘Remus?’ he heard Sirius say sharply. ‘Moony, you all right?’

‘Yes,’ he tried to say. He realised his eyes were closed, the orange light from the bonfire glowing through his eyelids. 

He felt hands give his shoulders a tentative shake. ‘We shouldn’t have let him drink,’ came James’s voice. ‘Come on, mate, let’s get you to bed.’

He felt himself being heaved up, James on one side, Peter on the other, and he opened his eyes but found himself completely disorientated, seeing only feet and the ashy dirt around the fire. 

‘We’re all going to join, aren’t we?’ he said as they led him to the tent. It felt absurd, to think of himself fighting Death Eaters now.

‘Not backing out now, are you?’ said James lightly.

‘No,’ replied Remus. ‘But you’re not to tell my mother.’

.................

The next day, the effect of his oncoming transformation was stark. By stopping drinking early, he had avoided a hangover, had managed to pull himself together for breakfast, and had even managed to follow the others on a short walk through the woods, but by lunch time he had reached feverish delirium, drifting in and out of sleep, his bones aching.

Still, there were worse places to be ill, he thought as he lounged on the lake shore, cooling his feet in the water. He could hear Lily lightly singing a Muggle song about the summer time to herself as she floated in the lake, Peter and Sirius chuckling softly about something together. James was beside him, urging him to eat more. A bird was singing somewhere.

‘I’m fine, James. Go swimming with the others.’

‘Have some of this, Moony, my Mum made it. I don’t know what it is, but try some or she’ll be really offended and never let you come to my house again.’

‘ _You can stretch right up, and touch the sky…_ ’

‘My mum sings that song sometimes,’ Remus mumbled, his eyelids drooping.

‘What?’ said James, baffled. ‘What are you talking-? Moony? No, stay awake, have something to eat…’

James’s voice faded away, Remus thought he saw a shower of bright flowers, and in no time at all, he was being heaved into a sitting position, and was in the tent again. ‘Whazz goin’ on?’

‘Don’t worry, mate,’ he heard Sirius say from behind him, patting his shoulders. ‘Just have some water.’

Something cool and smooth touched his lips, and he drank gratefully, he hadn’t realised how parched he was. It was better this way, he thought in the back of his mind. It was better with friends or family in a nice place, rather than the hospital wing or St Mungos. He wanted to tell them this, but Sirius was easing him back down, and he was exhausted. 

‘Remus,’ he heard her whisper. He opened his eyes, and even though he was still in the tent somehow he knew night time was close. 

Lily was peering at him with her bright green eyes, he felt her hand lay on his shoulder. ‘I have to go now,’ she said to him kindly. ‘Good luck with your interview tomorrow.’

‘Thank you,’ he said. He hoped she understood. 

‘He’ll be all right,’ he heard James’s voice say as his eyes closed again. 

‘Is it always this bad?’

‘Not always. We’ll look after him, don’t worry.’

He sank into sleep again, sure that he could hear the creak of the Shrieking Shack.

Suddenly he was wide awake. Alert. This was the time when Madam Pomfrey usually came to escort him to the Shrieking Shack, or his mother led him to the most secure room in the house. His heart thudded with fear. 

He rose, and changed out of his sweat drenched clothes into lighter, looser ones. He could hear quiet talking from outside, and followed it.   
Sirius, James and Peter sat by the now cold remains of the camp fire. The sunset had nearly vanished beneath the horizon, the light was now grey. 

‘All right?’ said Sirius. ‘Nearly ready?’

He nodded. I just need to-’

‘We’ve done the charms,’ said James kindly. ‘Don’t worry. But if you don’t mind getting out the way, I’d like to put some over the tent. Dad’ll kill me if it gets ruined, and we all know what Padfoot’s like.’ 

‘Oi!’

Remus smiled at him gratefully. The nerves before a transformation never got any better, even after all these years, but he was sure that his heart was swelling with appreciation. 

Darkness skulked around the horizon. The temptation was always to hide, but there was nothing to stop it, and like a predatory creature it rolled through the trees and smothered them, hauling the moon swiftly behind it. 

…

He was shivering when he woke up, though someone had magicked up a blanket onto him. His face pressed into the cold earth, and long-dead leaves tickled at his bare flesh. He blinked rapidly. He could see the underside of a dog’s paw. Padfoot was lying, asleep, alongside him. With a slight groan, he pushed himself up and turned, slumping himself against a tree. 

The movement caused the large stag by his feet to raise his head and look at him with large, unblinking hazel eyes. It stood, a little ungracefully, and turned into James, who smiled cheerfully down at him. ‘Morning. Good night, eh?’ 

Remus simply groaned in response. Vague memories were starting to come now, like the trickle of water. Horrible, terrible pain. A rat clutching onto antlers. A dog barrelling into him. Soon, he would remember the whole night. James gave Padfoot a light nudge with his foot to wake him up. 

‘Where’s Wormtail?’ Remus asked. 

‘Gone back to the tent to start breakfast. Thought we should get things moving if you’re going to make it to your interview.’

Remus swore. 

‘Here’s your spare robes,’ yawned Sirius, throwing them at him. 

Remus grabbed them, and frowned. ‘Did… Did I catch something last night? An animal?’ 

‘Nearly. You almost caught a hare. We were very impressed.’ 

‘Right… But I didn’t… It got away?’

‘It got away, yes.’ 

Remus nodded. ‘Good.’ 

He pulled the robes over his head and stood shakily. His hands were stained brown with old blood, and he could feel the bruises and scratches all over his body. He looked at James, who seemed to know what he was about to ask. ‘There’s no scratches on your face. We tried to stop you as much as possible.’ 

‘Thank you.’ 

‘Come on then.’ 

He felt a lot better than yesterday, but he was still grateful for his friends walking him back through the woods. He grasped hold of their shoulders every now and then when he felt wobbly, and they told him about the night, helped him piece all the disjointed memories together. 

‘We found an old pill box,’ said Sirius excitably as they walked across the potato field. ‘You know, those old Muggle military buildings. Hidden in the undergrowth. Prongs couldn’t get in, though, the door was too small. You only just about squeezed through yourself.’ 

‘I think I remember,’ said Remus slowly. ‘It had graffiti, didn’t it? Inside?’ He remembered it clearly now. ‘It was really cool.’ 

‘It stank of piss,’ said James resentfully. ‘I don’t know why you were all so excited.’ 

‘Jealous, Prongs?’

‘No…’ 

Peter had made them a quick breakfast of toast and scrambled eggs when they arrived. Remus ate as quickly as he could, glancing at his watch anxiously. ‘Reckon I’ve got time to go home for a shower?’ 

‘Dunno, mate, I think you’d be pushing it.’ 

‘Fuck.’ 

‘There’s one in the tent. Only cold water though.’

‘Fuck.’ 

He was in the icy shower for just enough time to wash the blood and smell of animals off him. Peter had fetched the new robes his parents had bought for him out of his bag, and laid them out on his camp bed. As he dressed at breakneck speed, he caught a glimpse of his sickly, pale face in the mirror. ‘They’re going to think I’m hungover!’ he exclaimed unhappily as he tied his laces. ‘Oh, Merlin, I still feel terrible, what if I throw up or something?’

‘Stay calm,’ advised Peter. ‘They won’t think you’re hungover, just ill. You’ll be fine.’ 

He pulled a comb frantically through his hair and babbled through his thanks and goodbyes. ‘Don’t worry about us!’ said James. ‘Just go! Quick!’ 

.......................

‘And what do you like to read, Mr Lupin?’ The two interviewers watched him shrewdly. A short, fat bald man and a blonde witch with pursed lips. Their quills hovered expectantly before them.

He swallowed. He was going to throw up. ‘Everything, really.’ They looked bored. No doubt they had heard that answer from every candidate so far. ‘I… I particularly enjoy works by authors who have explored unchartered territory-’

‘Let me guess,’ said the interviewer dully, ‘Newt Scamander?’

He was finding it hard to concentrate. He just wanted to put his head on the desk in front of him and sleep. ‘Well… Yes, but also…’ His mind had gone blank. Fuzzy. All he could think about was an absurd memory of last night, of howling at the moon. 

‘Mr Lupin?’

He blinked, and swallowed. ‘S-sorry, I… Who’s the author who lived in Patagonia for a year? The… The one from Lindisfarne…’ They did not look very impressed. ‘I do apologise,’ he said helplessly. ‘I’ve been a bit under the weather lately.’

The interviewers exchanged looks. ‘Well, Mr Lupin,’ said the woman. ‘If someone came into the shop looking for that book and gave you those details, what would you do to find it for them?’

He looked at them. He was starting to see double. ‘I… Well, I would see if I could elicit any more information from them through conversation, and then I would use the sciscitor charm to search for any key words or phrases they recall to narrow it down. From there, I would…’ 

‘Mr Lupin?’

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, and rushed out of the room. 

He just made it to the bathroom. Hunched over the toilet, he retched into the bowl, furious with himself, the mixture of humiliation and the pain of the vomiting making his eyes water. He heard the door gently open behind him. 

‘Are you all right, lad?’ came the male interviewer’s voice. 

‘Sorry,’ gasped Remus. ‘I’m so sorry.’ 

‘It’s all right, here you are…’ He conjured Remus a glass of water, and crouched down to hand it to him. ‘Any idea what it is?’ he asked him. ‘Can’t just be nerves, can it?’ 

‘I don’t know, maybe,’ muttered Remus. 

‘You’ll want to get yourself checked for Dragon Pox, lad.’ 

‘I will. Thank you.’ His face was burning. Unhappiness pierced at his insides. ‘I’m very sorry.’ 

The man looked sympathetic. ‘Don’t you worry. Coming in when you’re as ill as this – that shows real dedication, you know. Commitment. We like that round here.’

Remus summoned up the courage to look the man in the eye. He could scarcely allow himself to hope. 

‘You catch your breath,’ continued the man, smiling, ‘and when you’re ready, come and tell us more about Lydwina Puffin’s explorations of Patagonia. Don’t worry; at least you’re memorable, eh?’


	3. Chapter 3

The bell tinkled as he entered. A pair of fat little witches were giggling over a new book in the romance section. An old wizard had his ear pressed against a page of The Lost Songs of Ancient Wizardry and was nodding slightly. Copies of Can We Float to the Moon? Use of Charms in the Wizarding Space Race were levitating lazily towards the back of the shop. 

‘Afternoon, lad,’ greeted Mr Golding, the manager who had been so kind to him in his interview. ‘Good lunch?’

‘Very good, thanks.’ He approached Mr Golding at the till, where he was looking over the schedule.

‘I wanted to talk to you before you got going, actually. Mrs Atwood says you asked for some time off next week.’

‘If that’s all right with you, Mr Golding. I have a family wedding.’ 

Mr Golding looked a little embarrassed; he glanced down at the schedule again and scratched his cheek. ‘Yes, I understand, quite important… It’s just… I mean, you had time off last month as well.’ 

Remus swallowed. He hoped the mild panic that was now filling him didn’t show on his face. ‘Yes… Like I said, I’m very sorry about that. I was moving into a new home, and I did make the time up-’

‘Oh, I know that, lad, don’t worry, I’m not telling you off. I just don’t want you to use up all your holiday days before Christmas, and… Er, I don’t suppose there’s any flexibility around the wedding, eh?’

‘Sorry.’

Golding shook his head with an amused smile. ‘Don’t apologise, I’ll find someone to cover, don’t you worry. Here, give us a hand with these space books, would you? They’re floating about everywhere and I can’t figure out why.’

Remus got to work, throwing himself into the daily life of Flourish and Blotts with as much enthusiasm as his first day. Mr Golding and Mrs Atwood had, they informed him after the interview, been amazed at his perseverance and passion despite his quite obviously severe illness, and that even if he hadn’t been unwell his innovative ideas in visual merchandising made him head and shoulders above the other candidates.

He had told his parents as soon as he had found out. Hope had burst into delighted tears when he told them, and Lyall pulled him into an unexpected hug. Remus had been so overjoyed with his unexpected fortune that he quite forgot that he was supposed to be angry with him, and coincidentally he also seemed to have forgotten he had ever doubted his son. 

Since then, his life excitingly exhausting. His time at the bookshop had been an unexpected success. He found it delightful to be able to be around books all day, easy to get along with the friendly managers, and, a small part of him had to admit it, easier than he expected to be charming and confident to customers when he didn’t have Sirius and James overshadowing him. He had briefly met Mr Blotts himself, a tiny, liver-spotted old man who apparently only came in once a month to make sure the books were behaving themselves, found a house near Regents Park to move into with his friends, and had started at the Order of the Phoenix in the evenings, learning how to cast a Patronus to communicate, practicing duelling, and being assigned responsibility as a guard of Diagon Alley. 

His only concern was that he would soon run out of plausible excuses to take time off every month. He uneasily thought of the schedule Mr Golding had been closely examining. How long would it be before he noticed a pattern? He firmly pushed it out of his mind. Unless he had a lunar chart, it was unlikely he would even know when the full moon was, surely?

He took the large net that Mr Golding handed to him, and began to catch the escaping books. Each needed to be individually counter-charmed, but if he could find the reason for the problem perhaps-

‘’Scuse me.’ A small hand tugged on his robes. A snotty-faced little boy was looking nervously up at him. ‘Are there any books on Hogwarts?’  
Remus smiled down at him and leaned the net against a nearby bookcase. ‘Going soon, are you?’

‘Not for another few years, but I want to be prepared.’

‘I understand. This way.’ He led the boy to the right section of the bookshop. He couldn’t have been more than seven years old. ‘Where are your parents?’ 

‘Working. They run the café up the road.’

‘Rosa Lee’s?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I like that place. Here you are then, everything you can find about Hogwarts. I’d recommend Hogwarts, A History to start, but if you follow this shelf you’ll find everything you could possibly know, from the modern day issues to the local geography and the Dark Forest.’

The boy looked mildly horrified as he looked at the thick textbooks. ‘Erm… ‘ave you got any wiv pictures in?’

Remus tried not to laugh, but felt a surge of affection for the boy. ‘Well, no, I’m afraid no picture books about Hogwarts. But there are lots in the children’s section if you want? Or perhaps you could get one of these books and ask your Mum to read them with you?’

The boy looked doubtful, but chewed on his lip and said, ‘Mum does like to read me stories…’ 

‘Well then, you take your time and if you find one you like the look of, just let me know.’ 

He left the boy to browse and returned to netting the floating copies of Can We Float to the Moon? Innovations in the Wizarding Space Race. Mr Golding sauntered casually over to him, a net in his hand too. ‘You’re good with kids,’ he said. 

‘You think?’

‘Certainly. You don’t patronise them. Kids hate being patronised. I’ve got three kids myself, all grown up now, of course, but they were so funny at that age. If you don’t see it here, you’ll see it when you have your own.’ 

‘I doubt that will happen,’ said Remus, without thinking. 

‘Not got a girl yet, eh?’ said Mr Golding with a knowing smile. ‘Don’t you worry, you’ll find one, nice smart lad like you. In fact…’ He seemed to freeze mid-sweep of the net. ‘Yes, in fact I know just the person. My niece. Pretty girl, a bit shy, but sharp as anything. She’s about your age, but she went to Durmstrang, she’s been wanting to spend time over here for ages-’ 

‘I really don’t need to be set up with anyone,’ said Remus quickly. ‘Honestly-’

‘Nonsense, it’s not a problem, I can give her a little part time job here too… Don’t you worry, I’ll see to it.’

‘Mr Golding-’

Mr Golding did not listen to him, simply gave a smile and a wink, and wandered over to the till to serve the little boy from the café. Remus was left clutching a book struggling to escape from his hands, and wondering how exactly he would get out of this one. 

………………………….

‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’

Beautiful was one word to describe it, Remus thought, but personally he felt the defining feature was huge. The motorbike gleamed black, with monstrous wheels thicker than Remus’s leg, a huge round headlight like a giant insect eye attached to the wide handles. It looked slightly out of place outside the elegant Georgian terrace they were living in. 

‘Where on earth did you get it?’ asked Peter, staring at it with his mouth slightly open. 

‘This place down at the end of Knockturn Ally-’

‘Sirius!’ 

‘What? It’s not dark or dangerous or anything. Bit pricey, though. Good old Uncle Alphard.’ 

‘It’s brilliant,’ James breathed, softly touching the leather seat. ‘Does it have any special features?’

‘It flies,’ said Sirius smugly.

‘You’re shitting me.’ 

‘Nope. Honest to Merlin, it flies. I’m going to fly it to the meeting tonight, make an entrance.’

‘Make an entrance? The noise of it will give old Elphias heart failure,’ said Remus. ‘It’s huge! Look at the size of the exhaust pipe, I could probably fit my head in it.’

‘It’s a Muggle bike originally,’ said Sirius conversationally, still with that smug look on his face and his hands in his pockets. ‘A Triumph Bonneville T120 from America. Top of the range. Magically enhanced with flying capabilities, engine enlarged to almost double the original speeds up to 200 miles per hour. Cushioning charm on the seat for long journeys and a nifty little enchantment to prevent drag in high winds.’ 

‘I like the colour,’ said Peter awkwardly. 

‘You’re really going to fly this to the meeting tonight?’ asked Remus. 

‘Can I sit on the back?’ said James quickly. 

‘Aren’t you meant to be picking Lily up from her place?’ Sirius reminded him. 

James swore. ‘Fine, but next time? After?’ 

Sirius made a show of hissing through his teeth, shrugging, grimacing; anything to wind James up, who’s begging became increasingly urgent. Remus chuckled as he watched them, before checking his watch. ‘If we still want to get their early tonight we should leave soon, especially if you’re planning to fly.’ 

.............................

Remus and Peter travelled together to the meeting, with Sirius flying somewhere above them and James and Lily due to meet them there.   
The headquarters for the Order was in the ancestral home of Elphias Doge, in a remote part of the South Downs. The red brick house was vast, each feature surrounded by smooth white granite, the bay windows topped with ornate balconies. The grey tiled roof would have been just as sensible and posh, if it weren’t for the ridiculous number of chimneys, which clustered and bunched impractically, far too numerous to be necessary. Remus had enquired about them, but Elphias had looked at him as though he were mad, and simply said, ‘to confuse the Floo system, of course.’ 

Together they went up the long drive through lush green lawn. 

‘I’m nervous, aren’t you?’ said Peter. 

‘Nervous?’

‘Last meeting Dumbledore said he’d be giving us jobs soon.’

‘Oh… I suppose so,’ said Remus. ‘I think I’m more excited than nervous, but then I suppose it depends on what he wants us to do, doesn’t it?’ 

‘Do you think we’ll be in the history books?’ asked Peter. ‘For being part of this?’

‘Perhaps.’ Remus hadn’t really thought about it, even when he had spent the afternoon organising the modern history shelves. ‘As long as we win,’ he added with a grin, but Peter didn’t laugh. 

‘All this stuff has been going on for nearly a decade, hasn’t it?’ he said. ‘How long d’you think-’

‘Are you all right?’ said Remus kindly. ‘It’s probably not too late to back out if-’

‘I’m not backing out!’ said Peter hotly. ‘I’m just… We’re on the brink of something, aren’t we? We’ll be in the middle of it all.’

They had reached the huge oak front door. Remus touched his wand to it, and the burnt outline of a phoenix appeared. ‘Password?’ it asked. 

‘Dulce.’

The door swung open into a dark panelled entrance hall, a glistening chandelier over glossy mahogany furniture and Persian rugs of red and gold.

‘All right Moony, Wormtail?’ James was sitting on the bottom step of the stairs, rolling a cigarette. ‘I knew Padfoot would be late.’ 

‘Where’s Lily?’

‘Oh, she brought Emmeline along; she’s showing her round and introducing her to everyone.’ From up the stairs, Remus could hear shrieking giggles. James winced. ‘Sounds like they found Alice and Hestia anyway.’ 

Remus grinned, and took off his travelling cloak. ‘Patronus practice while we wait then? We really ought to crack it before Dumbledore gives us any jobs.’ 

James smirked. ‘Cracked it already, mate.’

‘You haven’t?’ gaped Peter, astounded. 

‘Yup. Sirius and I were practicing this morning. A stag, not particularly surprising. I suppose I can help you two out if you’re still struggling.’

They went upstairs; Lily and a gaggle of girls were chattering excitably on the landing, but James led them down the corridor towards the east wing of the house, largely unused. He opened the door to an empty room with peeling wallpaper and grimy bay windows. A dirty white sheet lay crumpled on the floor.

‘How sad,’ said James, looking at it. ‘A dead ghost.’ 

Peter laughed, but Remus groaned. ‘Let’s get on with it, shall we? I’m meant to be keeping a watchful eye on Diagon Ally, but if anything does happen, there’s sod all I can do about it.’

James winked at him. ‘Come on then. Happy memories. I’ll demonstrate.’ He patted his pockets until he found his wand, and soon a glorious silver stag was standing before them. ‘Looks just like me, doesn’t it?’ James said proudly. 

Peter was amazed. He reached out but his fingers fell through the neck of the stag. ‘And then you just talk to it to give it the message?’ he asked. 

‘Yeah, apparently,’ said James. ‘I haven’t tested it though. Er… Go and tell Sirius “hurry up you dick”,’ he told the stag.   
It blinked at him, turned sharply, and bounded out the window. They were left in silence. ‘Did… Did it work?’ asked Remus. 

‘I hope so. Hope it goes to the right Sirius too, and not some other poor sod just trying to eat his dinner without being verbally abused.’

‘What memory did you think of?’ asked Peter. 

James seemed to stand a little taller, his grin getting broader. ‘Couldn’t possibly tell you,’ he said smugly. 

‘Go on.’

‘No. You’re too young and innocent.’ 

Remus chuckled. ‘Well as long as you don’t make things awkward when you bring the memory to mind…’ 

They practiced the charm, Peter casting small wisps of silver and Remus managing large clouds that seemed to almost take form. ‘I think I’m nearly there!’ he said excitedly. ‘I almost saw it!’ His heart yearned to know what his Patronus was; he thought that maybe, like James, it would be the form he would take if he ever became an animagus.   
Lily and Emmeline joined them, and they practiced too. Emmeline’s sailfish cut across the room quickly, and James let out a delighted bark of laughter when Lily managed to create a graceful doe. 

‘See, we’re made for each other,’ he informed her, looking extremely pleased with himself. 

She laughed. ‘Nah, I think it’s just a coincidence…’

‘LOOK!’ Remus was practically bursting with excitement, his clouds of silver were taking shape, this had to be it-

His delighted smile slid off his face immediately. The glowing silver had taken the shape of a wolf, haughty and distinguished looking, a thick coat of shining fur, looking at him with alert ears and piercing eyes. 

His hatred rose in him like bile. The Patronus vanished. The room was silent, he let his wand arm fall limply to his side. 

‘That’s brilliant, Remus!’ said Lily brightly. 

‘Yeah, mate, fantastic, well done,’ said James quickly. 

Remus was gritting his teeth so hard his jaw ached. ‘It’ll be time for the meeting soon,’ he said shortly. ‘Come on, let’s go down.’ 

He was sure the others were exchanging awkward glances behind him as he stormed out of the room. He heard Emmeline’s bewildered enquiry, but he didn’t drop his pace. His disappointment mixed with a kind of furious humiliation. He had hoped, passionately, for an identity beyond that, he felt sick with rage that it had to infect every aspect of his life.

Sirius was just coming through the door as they descended the stairs, and the house was now full of humming conversation. Marlene, who had been their Head Girl just a few years ago, was giggling with Lewis McKinnon, the Prewett brothers were greeting another ex-pupil, Kingsley, and Alastor Moody was stood by the door which led through to the meeting room, barking orders at Frank Longbottom. 

‘Mr Black, is that your ridiculous contraption parked outside?’ asked Professor McGonagall, following Sirius in. 

He turned, and though Remus could not see his face he could easily imagine the roguish grin. ‘Like it, Professor? I’ll take you for a spin on it later if you want.’ 

‘You may not be my student anymore, but I still don’t suffer fools, Mr Black.’ 

She walked past him, and as Sirius turned he spotted them, wiggling his eyebrows up at them. ‘She’ll fall for me one day,’ he called. 

‘Glad you showed up,’ said James.

‘Well as soon as I heard your lovely message I just knew I had to be here.’

‘Come on, you lot, while you’re standing around gabbing, Death Eaters are getting busy,’ snapped Moody. 

The main hall of the house had a domed ceiling of glass. It was now approaching September, so the late summer sunset was streaked with grey clouds haloed with pink. It cast beams of warm yellow light into the circular room, where dust particles danced over the glossy mahogany table. At the head of the table sat Dumbledore, pouring over rolls of parchment.

They found seats at the table, Remus still feeling miserable. Peter leaned over to him, using the noise of everyone taking their places to hide his whisper of, ‘I know what it’s like to feel disappointed like that. It’ll pass.’

‘You do?’

‘Of course I do. James and Sirius got cool animals, I’m a fucking rat.’ 

Remus’s snort of surprised laughter was so loud that Dorcas Meadows gave him a scowl worthy of Professor McGonagall. 

Dumbledore cleared his throat and a hush settled. ‘Welcome all… Minutes from the last meeting… We discussed the attack of the day before… Caradoc, let’s start with you. Did you locate any source behind the destruction of the pub in Upper Flagley?’ 

‘Not as of yet,’ said Caradoc. ‘Though we’re hoping that when Mr Smith wakes up he might be able to give us a description of the attackers.’

‘You believe he will wake up?’ Dumbledore asked, looking at Dorcas. 

‘All the other Healers on the ward seem to think so,’ said Dorcas. ‘The challenge will be questioning him, given possible infiltration in the hospital.’ 

Dumbledore nodded gravely, and made a small note on his parchment. ‘I will talk to you regarding this later… Alastor, Frank and Alice. When we last spoke you were monitoring the Auror Cassius Leach. You had concerns that he has been cursed.’ 

The three of them nodded. ‘Under the imperious perhaps, but I think he may have just been corrupted,’ said Moody. ‘I strongly suspect he is being used to gain access to my office.’ 

‘I found him in there,’ said Alice. ‘He said he was dropping off a report but he was standing on the wrong side of the desk.’ 

‘Good job I assigned Alice to watch the door for me, eh?’ said Moody. ‘Constant vigilance!’ 

‘Do you know what he was looking for?’ asked Caradoc. 

‘Could have been anything. I’m not stupid enough to keep sensitive information on my desk in plain sight though.’ 

‘I do not wish you to approach Leach about this,’ said Dumbledore seriously. ‘But I would like him to be monitored and followed; there is a chance he could lead us to the Death Eater that cursed him. Kingsley, can I trust you to do this?’ 

Kingsley nodded. Remus was sure he spotted Sirius and James’s shoulders sink slightly in disappointment. Dumbledore called for more issues, and there were many – more people suspected of becoming, or being tempted to become, Death Eaters, sightings of Dementors on the mainland, rumours of an imminent attack on Diagon Alley.   
Dumbledore looked to Remus. ‘I trust you are still happy to be on guard at Diagon Alley?’ 

‘Yes, Sir.’ 

‘You will have to give me your working schedule so I know when you will be there, we can arrange for others to be on guard during the night. Fabian, Gideon, would you be able to?’ They nodded, and Dumbledore continued. ‘Then I will speak to you shortly. I trust, Remus, that you have mastered the Patronus charm?’

‘Yes,’ said Remus hesitantly. ‘Though I don’t suppose there are any other ways of-’

‘Not securely and quickly, no,’ said Dumbledore abruptly. ‘I would also like you to take note of anyone purchasing books that you think suspicious. Books concerning the dark arts, for example, or books criticising Eugenia Jenkin’s granting of Squib rights in the sixties.’ 

‘I’m not sure we stock-’

‘But you may receive enquiries all the same. I would rather be on guard than giving people the benefit of the doubt.’ 

‘Speaking of which,’ said Edgar Bones, somewhat angrily. ‘I have real concerns with Minister Minchum’s latest legislation he’s rushed through.’ 

All of the Aurors in the room suddenly stiffened. Remus felt as though the air had become thicker. 

‘You are referring, of course, to the Minister for Magic granting Aurors the right to deadly force, I presume?’ said Dumbledore patiently. 

‘Unforgivables, Dumbledore,’ said Edgar, aghast. ‘Where does it end?’ 

‘With all due respect, Mr Bones,’ said Frank coldly, ‘I don’t think you realise the realities facing the Auror department at the moment.’ 

Remus found himself exchanging a dark look with Peter, whose eyebrows were raised in similar shock. 

‘Oh, I realise them all right, Frank. I’m the one who was tortured not long ago. It’s only thanks to Benjy and Caradoc that I got out of there alive-’

‘I understand the events of May were difficult, Edgar-’

‘Difficult? Difficult?’ He swore, and Peter’s mouth dropped. The entire room was now virtually trembling with tension. Remus wondered if Edgar, normally a calm and dignified man, had been waiting for a long time to have his chance to speak out. ‘That curse is unbearable evil and I am staggered that you’re not speaking out against this, Dumbledore! The thought that Aurors should be allowed to use it against suspects, whether they’re guilty or not-’

‘But we wouldn’t use it!’ said Alice, who looked rather offended. ‘The legislation simply helps us avoid prosecution if we really have to use lethal force or-’

‘There would never be justification for that! To kill, maybe, as a last resort, but to torture and control-’

‘I’ll do whatever it takes to keep people safe,’ said Moody abruptly. ‘If I need information, and I need it fast-’

‘I told the Death Eaters all sorts of nonsense, Moody,’ boomed Edgar. ‘Anything to get them to stop!’

‘That’s not what we would do,’ said Kingsley. ‘We’re good people, Edgar, we wouldn’t-’

At the same time, Frank, who was rather red in the face, was saying, ‘I’ll use whatever force it takes if it protects my wife!’ 

Edgar however, talked over them. ‘But if one of you does go rogue, you’re all jolly well allowed to do whatever you want now, aren’t you? Your man you think has been cursed - Leach - you’ve just made it harder to prosecute him now, haven’t you? It’s madness! Absolute madness! You’re all as bad as them if you do this.’

‘Now hold on just a minute-’ said Frank furiously.

‘Edgar,’ said Dumbledore sharply. ‘The people sitting at this table did not write this legislation and as you well know it was passed without a vote. I will discuss with you, privately, your feelings on this and how we can resolve it. But do not throw such accusations. All of the Aurors here are to be trusted, and have proven themselves, multiple times, to have everyone’s best interests at heart.’ 

Edgar fell silent, but his jaw was still rigid with rage. The Aurors in the room were pointedly not looking at him. The meeting was wrapped up rather swiftly – no doubt Dumbledore was concerned that another argument would break out. As was usual, rather than leaving, the Order members mingled and talked, or wandered off into empty rooms to practice duelling. 

Dumbledore and Elphias went to the study, where every now and then small groups or individuals would be summoned for private chats. 

‘That all got a bit tense, didn’t it?’ said Sirius, as they gathered in the flagstone kitchen. ‘Frank looked ready to punch Edgar… D’you reckon old Doge has got any booze stashed in here…? He’ll never know.’ 

‘The Longbottoms seemed so gentle when I them earlier,’ said Emmeline, wide-eyed. ‘Frank offered me a cup of tea and Alice was telling me all about her hellebores.’ 

‘Ooh, that’s one of my favourite flowers,’ said Lily absent-mindedly. ‘Oh, look, Sirius, up there. Whisky. Give us a leg up, James-’

‘Well they are Aurors, Emmeline,’ said Remus. ‘There’s got to be a certain toughness to them.’ 

‘And they must have seen all sorts of horrible stuff,’ said Peter. ‘I’d be tempted to use some pretty dark spells if things were bad enough.’ 

‘Not to mention they’re newlyweds,’ said James fairly, heaving Lily up so she could reach a high shelf. ‘You might feel a bit more intense about it if you’re working alongside your partner… But I think everyone was being a bit harsh on Edgar. It sounds bloody terrifying. You know him and his family are in hiding? Oof, blimey, Lils, watch the glasses…’ 

‘What happened?’ asked Emmeline, white as a sheet. 

‘Marlene told me that they’d been after him for a while. They kidnapped him on his way into work and were trying to find out where the headquarters were and who else is in the Order,’ said Lily, pouring out the whisky into several glasses. ‘Luckily some bloke called Mundungus had heard them planning it in that dodgy pub in Knockturn Alley. He dithered a bit, but told Dumbledore on the condition he got some protection too.’ 

‘They’ll be after him even more now,’ said Sirius gravely. ‘I heard my cousin was there. You don’t piss her off and get away with it. Anyway, cheers everyone.’ 

It was a bit of an odd toast, but they drank anyway. They began to talk about Lily’s Healer training with Dorcas, but Remus’s mind was elsewhere. 

Try as he might to block it from his thoughts, his Patronus prowled in and out of his mind, sometimes pulling it’s lips into a snarl, hackles raised. It was not a werewolf. It was a normal wolf. He tried to think of it that way, but it still disgusted him. There was another feeling too, something akin to fear, and he realised, as he took a large gulp of the whisky, that he was wondering what it said about him. Sirius and his dog form was obvious. He was a loyal friend. James’s stag form was obvious too. He was confident and a natural leader. Peter was obvious as well, though he might not see it himself. He was smart and resourceful and not someone who liked to be alone. 

But wolves were, in Remus’s mind, aggressive, scary, the villains of folktales and ruthless aggressors that worked in packs to isolate the weak and vulnerable. They were vicious predators, perfectly designed to kill. They fought to lead a pack and would kill anyone who stood in their way. Remus had never been the leader of any pack. He was the weak and vulnerable one. 

He drained his glass, and it was just as well; Elphias had come to summon Lily to Dumbledore’s office, and was not happy that they had opened his 85 year old whisky. 

…………………

It was just a few weeks later, on an uncommonly warm late September afternoon, that Remus finished his shift, said a cheerful goodbye to Mr Golding, dodged Mr Golding’s attractive Swedish niece who was hinting that she wanted to date, and walked cheerfully down Diagon Alley. Outside Rosa Lee’s teashop, his friends were waiting for him, sitting together at a table under a big yellow umbrella. The café was packed, it was a lovely afternoon sure to become a beautiful evening after all, and the bright, twee colours of the shop were pretty in the light.

Sirius and James were both chuckling over their cigarettes over something, Peter was yawning and stretching, Lily was rising from her seat and walking towards the café. She entered just as Remus reached the table, and his friends made noises of greeting. 

‘How was work?’ began Sirius, but then it happened. 

It was deafening, Remus was sure that he only recalled the noise later. Suddenly he was in a world of blinding pain and grey dust, he was lying on the floor but his head felt as though it were spinning. His ears seemed to be blocked, just as they had been when he had dived underwater at the lake, but with a piercing ringing. 

He lay, stunned, but suddenly through the smoke, James was shaking him, his face white and frantic. He was shouting something at him, he could see his lips moving, but could hear nothing. He scrambled up shakily, gripping hold of James’s front. They could see nothing, James was still yelling, then gave one last shake and seemed to push Remus away, stumbling over rumble as he rushed towards the blackened front of the shop. Flames were billowing out of the windows, the air was black with smoke yet grey with dust. James vanished into it.

‘No, James!’ Remus roared, but his voice sounded distant and hollow. 

He thought he could hear popping, or cracks, and suddenly a pair of hands had grabbed him and pulled him back down to the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

He was being dragged away, instinctively he fought back, kicking against the ground. Before him, the building was half collapsed; a vast hole where the door used to be and only the shell of the brick walls left standing on one side, scorched black. Across the ground in front of the café, where Remus and his friends and so many others had been sitting just moments before, rubble and the remains of tables and chairs and umbrellas mixed with slumped heaps of people.

The left side of his face, the side that had been turned towards the explosion, felt numb. He realised it was Sirius dragging him, ushering him behind the remnants of a yellow umbrella and overturned table as a small group of hooded, dark figures appeared in the smoke. Remus and Sirius got onto their stomachs, watching them through the shredded material as they hurried into what was left of the building. One Death Eater, bearded and heavyset, stopped and turned. He pointed his wand to the sky. An emerald green serpent twisted into the smoky air, entangled itself into a skull and protruded sickeningly from the mouth like a tongue. Remus had seen photos of the dark mark in the papers before, but truly seeing it sent chills down his spine. The bearded Death Eater followed the others into the destroyed building.

‘Lily and James are in there,’ he whispered desperately to Sirius. ‘Where’s Peter?’

Sirius face was set in hardened determination. ‘Cast a Patronus,’ he said shortly. ‘I’ll find them. Get the Order here. Then get yourself to the hospital-’

There was a sudden shattering and a shower of glass fell from one of the few remaining windows on the uppermost floor. From the window, a man, either dead or unconscious, floated eerily, levitated by a Death Eater still inside the building. Remus was transfixed with horror; the man’s back arched as though he were being pulled up to the sky by a hook through his stomach, his arms hanging wide either side of him. He was wearing Muggle clothes, a brown jacket hanging off him, the white of his shirt gleaming through the clogged air, his throat pale and exposed as his head lolled back. From the window he had been thrown from, there was a chorus of cruel laughter mixed with a woman’s screams.

‘Remus,’ said Sirius harshly, shaking his shoulder as he rose. ‘The Patronus, now.’

Sirius scrambled up, wand drawn, and sneaked after the Death Eaters. Remus grabbed his wand too, he noticed that his hand was trembling and badly burnt, but he gripped his wand tightly as he spoke. ‘ _Expecto patronum… Expecto patronum… Expec..._ ’ He swallowed, and closed his eyes.

He could hear groans and muffled sobs, people shifting rubble as they called out for friends and loved ones, the cackling of the Death Eaters, the ever present screaming of the woman. He tried to block it all out, tune himself like a wireless, breathing deeply until they faded away and he could hear the furious thud of his own heart. He thought of the evening Dumbledore had visited his family to invite him to Hogwarts, how they had played gobstones together and ate hot buttered crumpets, Dumbledore welcoming and reassuring him as his hope and excitement grew…

‘ _Expecto Patronum!_ ’

He opened his eyes, and there was the wolf, pure white and shining. It seemed to smudge and dissolve slightly at the edges as he looked at it, but he pushed aside his hatred and disgust for the wolf and thought intently of Dumbledore. The wolf’s ears seemed to prick up. ‘Attack on Diagon Alley,’ he blurted out. ‘Rosa Lee’s Café. Many dead, many injured. Death Eaters- Please, send help.’

The wolf bowed his head and leapt into the sky, Remus’s moment of peace vanishing with it.   
Now he rose, staggering slightly, and saw that the floating man had been dropped to earth, and now lay crumpled on the ground. Remus ran towards him, stumbling over the broken bricks, but the man’s eyes were glazed over, staring up at the Dark Mark that hovered above him.

Unable to help the dead man and thinking desperately of his friends inside the café, Remus stepped over him and ran to the ruined building. Inside, the smoke was even thicker, the air was hot and the floor was buried beneath heaps of brick and plaster and destroyed furniture. Here too, were bodies, the café had been just as packed inside as it had been outside.

‘James! Sirius!’ he called, before throwing his arm over his lower face. He coughed and spluttered, his eyes were stinging, as he placed a hand on a charred wall he could see it was horribly burnt. He made his way to where the back of the café used to be, the stairs hidden away in the corner that led to the flat above, from which shouts, screams and bangs could be heard. But then he heard a spluttering whimper.

By the base of the splintered counter, a small boy lay, curled up and a book clutched to his chest, a dark stain of blood the only colour on his dusty grey face.

Remus rushed over to him, kneeling at once and realising with horror that it was the little boy he had served in the shop just a few weeks before. ‘Can you hear me?’ he asked him.

The boy tried to speak, but blood bubbled from his lips. His eyes were wide, frantic, terrified; they stared at the ceiling for the source of the screaming upstairs.

‘It’s all right,’ Remus told him. ‘Do you remember me? I’m going to get you to St Mungos. Here.’   
He gently took The Founding of Hogwarts from the boy’s arms, and laid it down. ‘We’ll come back for this later,’ he told him, though he didn’t know why.

‘Mummy,’ the boy said faintly.

‘We’ll come back for her too,’ Remus assured him. He picked up the boy, as gently as he could, for he was terrified of causing him even more pain. He was limp and heavy in his arms.

‘Remus!’

It was Peter. He must have just transformed, he was nowhere near the gaping hole he would have had to come through, but by the stairs as though he had just come down. He was pale, and trembling, but his wand was in his hands and he looked frantically between the injured boy and the stairs to the upper floor.

‘Help James and Sirius,’ Remus told him. ‘The Order will be here soon.’

‘They’re already here,’ said Peter. ‘Some of them- I just saw Mad-Eye and Edgar-’

‘Good,’ said Remus, moving past him as he carried the boy.

‘Remus! They’re outnumbered up there! You have to come and help!’

‘I will, I’ll be back,’ he said. He took the boy outside just as the Longbottom’s and Caradoc Dearborn apparated before him, and he twisted and vanished away just as they began to storm to the ruin of the café.

…………………..

‘Hold still, please.’

‘The boy, is he all right? Please tell me.’

‘Please hold still,’ she said, one hand against the left side of his face, the other dabbing the potion against the right side with a large sponge. ‘This is quite a nasty burn.’

‘Will it scar?’ he asked her. As the adrenaline wore off, he was starting to feel it now. Excruciating, blistering, deeply prickling pain down the side that had faced the café. His hands tightly gripped the edges of the blanket that had been thrown around his shoulders.

‘No,’ she replied. She was rather cold, stern faced and elderly, and Remus found himself wishing that it were Madam Pomfrey treating him.

‘At least tell me his name.’

‘I’m afraid we weren’t able to save him,’ she said. ‘His next of kin will be informed.’

‘He… He died?’

She dropped the sponge and went over to the little sink in the corner, scrubbing her hands furiously. Remus caught a glimpse of her face and saw an expression of disgust. He wondered how bad his burns could really be, and why a Healer wouldn’t be used to it.

‘Your burns should be healed within ten minutes,’ she said shortly. 

‘And then I can go? I really need to get back, my friends-’

‘No, someone needs to talk to you first,’ she said, without looking at him. ‘You may be in overnight. In the meantime, I will lock the door.’

‘Why?’

She simply gave him a look of contempt, and left him sitting on the bed.

Perhaps she had been upset that they had not been able to save the little boy, he told himself. Perhaps she thought he could have done more to save him, or got there quicker. Maybeshe was just having a bad day, or was naturally a cold person or…

But his eyes found the medical file on the bedside table. It was his, she had been reading it when she came in, and beneath its blue cover he knew what it must say.You know why, said an unpleasant voice in his head. You know why she can’t bear to look at you, much less touch you.

He pushed the voice from his mind, and thought instead of the little boy. He was still in a state of disbelief, the ringing in his ears had not yet stopped, and a vivid image of the boy, snotty-faced and curious, in the bookshop kept bringing itself to the front of his mind. He also thought of the man in Muggle clothing the Death Eaters had been levitating. Perhaps that was the father of the boy. Perhaps the mother of the family was the one who had been screaming.

Perhaps it had been Lily instead.

Suddenly he thought of Peter telling him to help his friends, and he began to tremble. What if Lily was among the dead in that café and he just didn’t see her? Peter said they were outnumbered upstairs, what if something happened to them and he could have helped?

He got up, and went to the locked door. ‘ _Alohamora._ ’

Nothing happened. The door remained locked no matter how much he shook the handle. He raised his hands to his head, felt the sticky balm that was still coveringhis burns, and began to pace. He had no idea when he would be allowed to leave and find his friends, and the silent, sterile room was driving him mad.

He found that he was beginning to breathe heavily, various images of the dead and dying in the café running through his head. Desperate to distract himself, he returned to sitting on the bed and picked up the only thing available for him to read.

_REMUS JOHN LUPIN_

_10/03/1960_

_KNOWN WEREWOLF_

The file was thick. It curled at the corners, a yellowish-brown mug stain peeked over one side like a rising moon, and some of the pages, stuffed in haphazardly, poked out at the top.

He gave a slight sigh and opened it. He had never read it before, though he had seen it many times in the arms of the Healers and nurses that attended to him. 

_4/2/1965 – Patient attacked by known werewolf Fenrir Greyback. Lacerations to chest, stomach, underside of arms (pictured), with distinct perforation of the posterior forearm (left)(also pictured)._

The images were gruesome. In his vague memories of it he always pictured himself as he was; as he aged, so too did the little boy who had been attacked in his bed. But here he could see how small he really was, the fragility of his bones, laid bare, that had snapped under the powerful jaw, the ease with which the claws had torn at his soft, vulnerable body.

He looked at the description again. He had never heard the name Fenrir Greyback before, and his heart swelled with pity and something like guilt as he thought of the unknown man. He had often wondered who ‘his’ werewolf was, though never dared ask his parents, instead imagining, strangely, to be someone like him. He knew what it was to wake up covered in blood, but for Fenrir there had been no James or Sirius to assure him that he had caught a rabbit or pheasant, just the slow recall of memories of a screaming child. It was Remus’s worse nightmare to wake to that, and he supposed that if they knew the name of the werewolf that did it, he was probably in Azkaban now. 

There was a sudden rattle and scrape at the door, and he threw the file back on the bedside table as though it were forbidden. A man with a thick black moustache and large, wire framed glasses entered, giving him a friendly-sort of smile.

‘Hello there, Remus,’ he said.

‘Hello, Mr Ely,’ said Remus quietly. He had never liked the Head of the Werewolf Registration. He could never quite place why, but his friendliness seemed like that of a rabid dog; kind enough to entice you closer, ready to snap.

‘How’s your father?’ asked Mr Ely, conjuring up a chair.

‘Fine…’

‘Good, good… Now, Remus, I’m afraid you’re in a bit of pickle.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Now, the Healers say when you arrived, you were shouting something about an attack on   
Diagon Alley.’

‘Yes… Please, I need to get back, my friends-’

‘I’m sure you can understand, Remus,’ said Mr Ely pleasantly, ‘that it’s hard for the Healers to know that you, ah, were actually there, you see?’

Remus froze. ‘No…’ he said slowly. ‘No, I don’t see.’

‘Well this little boy you were carrying,’ said Mr Ely, still smiling. ‘What happened to him? What happened to his legs? They were all maimed.’

‘There was an explosion,’ said Remus firmly. ‘You must know by now, he wasn’t the only one there. It was clearly an explosion.’

‘Yes, yes,’ said Mr Ely, nodding and waving a hand airily. ‘I quite believe you. We just have to check these things, Remus. You have to admit, it’s a nice little cover if you, ah, got a little tempted, shall we say?’

Remus’s hands curled into fists. ‘It’s another week until the full moon,’ he said pointedly.

‘Quite,’ said Mr Ely, cheerfully. ‘May I ask why it was the boy in particular you decided to save from the scene? There were many adults there that also needed help.’

Remus stared at him for a few moments. ‘Wouldn’t you help a child?’

Mr Ely’s moustache quivered as he gave a slight chuckle. ‘Naturally, of course. You’ve always been a good egg, Remus.’ He leaned forward and patted Remus’s knee. ‘I just wonder if you have any witnesses to your kindness? To be on the safe side, you see.’

Remus’s natural impulse was to shrink away from the calloused hands that petted him as though he were an animal, but he sat stiffly, his face neutral and as calm looking as he could manage. ‘Of course,’ he replied. ‘My friend Peter Pettigrew. And my other friends that were there too. But the Healers wouldn’t let me leave and return to them, so I don’t know where they are, or if they’re all right.’ 

‘I see,’ said Mr Ely. He leaned back, surveying Remus in silence, still with that odd smile. 

‘What exactly are you accusing me of, Mr Ely?’ asked Remus coldly.

‘Oh, my dear boy, we’re not accusing you of anything!’ exclaimed Mr Ely. ‘Heavens no, we just have to go through certain procedures. Tick certain boxes, you see?’

‘May I leave then? I expect my face is healed now.’

‘It is,’ said Mr Ely. ‘But I’m afraid I would prefer it if you stayed, for the time being.’  
‘I’m not any danger to anyone during the day time,’ said Remus sullenly. ‘Or during most nights, for that matter.’

‘Indeed. But it’s quite common for werewolves to try and build relationships with normal people,’ said Mr Ely. ‘Particularly children as they’re most vulnerable.’

Remus opened his mouth to argue, but the door opened again, and the stern-faced Healer had returned, this time with Sirius in tow.

Remus grinned in relief to see him, but Sirius, sweaty-faced and dirty looking, didn’t change his expression from the scowl that darkened his face.

‘This young man was asking for Lupin at reception, Mr Ely,’ said the Healer. ‘Says he came from the attack too.’

‘Ah, you can confirm Remus was there, can you, Mr…?’

‘Black,’ said Sirius. ‘Sirius. And yes, I can.’

‘Excellent,’ said Mr Ely, clapping his hands together. ‘That settles that then. Keep in touch, Remus, remember to respond to the owls we send you.’

‘I haven’t been receiving any owls from the registry,’ said Remus, puzzled.

Mr Ely looked a little flustered. ‘Well look out for them, then. Say hello to your dad for me, won’t you? Cheerio.’

He patted Remus on the shoulder and left, leaving the Healer and Sirius, both looking as angry as each other.

‘I’ll leave you to escort him out to be discharged then,’ the Healer told Sirius sharply, her hands on her hips. ‘I don’t want to catch either of you wandering about on your own.’ She turned on her heel and stormed out too; Remus could hear her shoes clacking down the corridor.

‘I’m so glad you’re all right,’ he said to Sirius. ‘Where are the others? How are they? What-?’

‘Where did you go?’ said Sirius suddenly, a stinging edge to his voice. ‘Peter said you just… Left.’ 

Remus gaped at him. ‘Well… There was a little boy. He didn’t mention the little boy?’

Sirius shook his head. ‘No?’

‘There was this little kid, dying, I took him here and then the Healers wouldn’t let me leave. I wanted to come back, I meant to.’

‘Oh,’ said Sirius, his shoulders lowering as he sighed. ‘We thought… Well, that makes sense. Is the kid all right?’

‘No,’ said Remus, and his voice wavered. ‘No, he… They said he died.’

Sirius swore. ‘Sorry, mate. At least you tried.’

Remus gave a short nod. ‘The others?’ he asked again.

‘Everyone’s all right. Well… Lily’s… She’ll be in here for a bit. Come on, I’ll take you to her ward, everyone’s there.’ 

………………….

When they reached Lily’s ward, James and Peter were already in there, talking quietly. Peter seemed relatively unharmed, though plaster and dust still clung to his robes and he slouched exhaustedly in his seat. Though James’s cuts had already been healed, according to Sirius, his messy hair seemed matted with blood, and he had been given his own bed, though he was sat bolt upright in it, his legs over the side.

Lily, on the other hand, was lying down, and much of her seemed coated in the same sticky balm that Remus had been given. James kept looking at her nervously, and though she tried to smile back, her eyelids drooped. She seemed to be drifting in and out of sleep.

‘Where were you?’ asked James.

Remus leant against the end of Lily’s bed and explained. James nodded understandingly at him, though Remus was sure he didn’t have his full attention, for his eyes kept drifting to Lily, and his hands tapped anxiously on the side of the bed.

‘She’s going to be all right then, is she?’ he asked quietly, nodding to her.

‘Yes,’ said James, and he seemed to tense slightly. ‘But I really thought… When I first ran in, I found her straight away, near the bathroom. But I thought…’

‘She’s going to stay in overnight,’ said Sirius firmly. ‘Someone should let her family know.’

James nodded. ‘Right… Yeah…’ He didn’t seem to want to leave her side, so it was Peter who stood with a heavy sigh.

‘I’ll go,’ he said. ‘I’m the least beaten up looking.’ He clapped James on the shoulder, who gave him a forced but grateful smile in return, and left.

‘So what happened inside?’ asked Remus.

‘I found Lily. She was conscious, just about.’ James’s voice was grim and forced. ‘Then the Death Eaters came in but they didn’t even look at us, they were looking for the owners. They ran up the stairs to look for them, and Lily- God, she was brave- Lily went after them. So I did too, because she could barely stand. They killed the man and they were torturing the woman, so we started trying to fight back. I was duelling them, Lily was trying to protect the woman… Sirius joined in the nick of time and then the Order started showing up too. Eventually the Death Eaters saw they were outnumbered and ran for it. We managed to stun a couple who have now been arrested though.’

‘Scum called Marshall and another called Davis,’ said Sirius, distaste curling his lips into a grimace. ‘They’ll be halfway to Azkaban by now. It’s just a pity we didn’t get more of them.’

‘Why were they torturing the woman?’ asked Remus. ‘Why didn’t they just kill her and be done with it? And where is she now? Is she all right?’

‘I don’t know,’ said James. ‘Frank and Alice looked after her when I took Lily to hospital.’

‘The Death Eaters wanted names from her,’ added Sirius. ‘It sounds like she was running some kind of Muggle literature book club from the café. From what they were saying, it sounds like the Orders came from the top.’

Remus felt an odd lurch in his stomach. ‘That’s all? That was enough to get them targeted?’  
Sirius shrugged. ‘They were going to kill her eventually, I think. If it hadn’t been for Lily and James-’

‘And everyone else,’ interrupted James firmly. ‘I still don’t fully understand what happened… I suppose we’ll talk to Dumbledore about it more when Lily’s better.’

Remus shook his head as he looked at her. ‘Can’t believe she’s all right.’

‘You’re telling me,’ said James despondently. His cheeks reddened slightly. ‘Just wanted her out of there,’ he added, his voice gruff and quiet. He cleared his throat, then, louder, said, ‘could do with a smoke.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ said Sirius. ‘Remus?’

Remus agreed to walk out of the hospital with them, but declined to stay and smoke, sure that he was pushing his luck with the healers as it was, and feeling a childish desire to see his parents.

He watched as James leaned over Lily, whose eyes fluttered open as he whispered to her, and kissed her on the head. Remus felt an odd twinge of jealousy, and, as he left St. Mungos with his friends, found himself thinking of the empty room he had been locked inside.


	5. Chapter 5

The unseasonally warm autumn came to an abrupt halt when the frost came in late October, turning the pleasant green square outside their house into a cold silver. Lily’s burns had been so severe that she had spent nearly two weeks in the hospital, and James had barely left her side. Now, however, the ebb and flow of daily life was shifting back into normal rhythm. 

‘I was sorry to hear about Severus Snape,’ said James, one evening as they sat in the kitchen. 

‘What happened to him?’ asked Peter, his eyebrows rising in surprise. 

‘Nothing,’ replied James. ‘I’m just very sorry to have ever heard about him.’ 

Sirius and Remus laughed; the empty bottles of Dragon Scale beer that littered the table providing a clear excuse for their merry mood. The deck of cards was shuffling itself on the table, and with a flick of his wand, Peter dealt them. 

‘Fuck you, Wormtail,’ said Sirius. ‘I always get a shit hand when you deal.’ 

‘The cards come out randomly, Padfoot, it’s not my fault,’ replied Peter, somewhat smugly. He looked at James. ‘I thought we weren’t meant to be mean about Snivellus anymore?’ 

James didn’t look up from his cards, but blew the smoke from his cigarette rather forcefully from the corner of his mouth before answering. ‘Yeah, well, what Lily doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I’m sure the slimy git had something to do with the café attack.’ 

‘You saw him?’

‘No, but I heard off Fabian Prewett that Benjy was watching a suspected Death Eater’s house, and Snape went there with a whole little gang of them. He must have known. Don’t tell Lily though.’ Remus didn’t think that meant that Snape had necessarily known, but James’s face was stony as he moved a galleon to the centre of the table, and he decided it wasn’t worth the argument. 

‘Raise you,’ said Sirius, pushing two more to join it. 

‘Thought you had a shit hand?’ 

‘Thought you understood how to play this game?’ 

‘Why shouldn’t we tell Lily?’ asked Remus. ‘She’ll find out herself before long.’ 

‘She already knows, I reckon,’ said James. ‘But just don’t mention it, because it sets her off, and then I have to spend all night listening to her going on about how much he’s changed since they were kids and getting upset if I point out he’s always been a dodgy creep…’

‘She still defends him?’ asked Sirius incredulously. 

‘No, she just gets weepy about it all. Come on, Moony.’ 

Remus glanced at his cards. ‘Fold,’ he said immediately. 

James rolled his eyes. ‘We’re not going high stakes.’ 

‘Fold,’ he said again, more firmly. He felt rather resentful at being persuaded into playing for real money at all. 

‘I’ll cover you.’ 

‘I’m sure you would. But I’m also sure I’m going to get sacked soon, so I’d rather you save your generosity for when I need it.’

‘Are they not happy about you being “ill”?’ 

‘Not at all… Got a big lecture about how they hired me because they were so impressed with my commitment, and I was letting them down. Tried to play it up as a case of scrofungulus, but he was having none of it.’ He looked at Peter. ‘At least try and hide your glee at a good hand, Wormtail.’ 

Peter’s broad grin slid off his face into a look of sombre reflection. ‘Raise you,’ he said heavily, adding a handful of sickles and a galleon to the pile. 

‘You couldn’t even play up the café attack a bit?’ asked Sirius. ‘Time off for trauma?’ 

‘Yeah,’ said James, tapping his cigarette into the ashtray. ‘I mean, you were upset about that kid-’

‘Joey Lee,’ Remus said. The boy’s cheeky grin had been all over the papers, just like the other victims.

‘Yeah – you were pretty cut up about it, surely they could’ve-’

‘Nah, I already claimed time off for an imaginary funeral the month before, I think it would’ve been pushing it a bit.’ This was only partly the truth. The other reason, the one that he would never reveal to his friends, was that unless he kept busy he found himself dwelling on the events of the attack. The sounds and smells and always, relentlessly, the little boy’s terrified face calling for his mother. It was better for him to have spent those next few days working, and by the time of the full moon too much time had passed for it to have been a genuine excuse. 

‘That’s bollocks, mate,’ said James sympathetically. ‘We’ll have to think something up. There must be a way…’

‘I’ve already started laying the plans for next time, if I make it that far. By the way, I have an out of control, elaborate lie I’ll need your help with,’ he joked with a wink. 

James laughed and tipped his beer bottle to him. ‘It’s what we do best.’ 

Sirius eventually won the game with a perfect royal flush. Peter threw his straight flush down with a fury. ‘You cheated!’ 

‘No I didn’t.’

‘Yes you did, that’s not the hand I dealt you!’ 

While they bickered, James summoned more beers from the pantry and threw one casually to Remus. 

‘How is Lily anyway?’ Remus asked him. ‘Glad to be out of hospital?’ 

‘Very, she’s doing much better,’ said James, raising his beer to take a swig. ‘Thinking of asking her to marry me.’ 

Silence fell with the sort of suddenness Remus would usually associate with coming after a loud thud. Sirius’s cigarette hung limply in his mouth as he stared, Peter’s jaw had dropped open. 

James drank casually, and looked at them with bemusement. ‘I don’t know why you’re all so surprised.’ 

‘We’re not!’ said Remus swiftly, throwing a sharp look at Sirius. ‘It’s ace, Prongs, honestly, congratulations-’

‘I haven’t asked her yet,’ he said, his mouth twitching into a smile. ‘She’ll say yes though,’ he added confidently. 

‘But then you’ll move out,’ said Sirius. 

‘Yes.’ 

‘On your own.’

‘That’s right.’ 

‘Without me.’ Peter coughed. ‘Sorry- without us.’

‘You’ll be allowed to visit,’ said James lightly. ‘I’ll even get you a dog bed, if you like.’ When Sirius didn’t laugh, he held his hands up in confused annoyance. ‘What’s wrong? I thought you liked her?’

‘We do,’ said Peter, nodding fervently.

‘She’s cool,’ added Remus.

‘But you’re going to get boring and start wearing jumpers and talking about the price of Floo powder,’ said Sirius. ‘You’ll start having early nights and instead of poker you’ll invite us to Lily’s book club.’

‘Lily doesn’t have a book club.’

‘Not yet.’

James laughed. ‘Well, I’m very touched, Padfoot. Who knew I meant so much to you?’

‘Shut up, you div,’ said Sirius, going uncharacteristically pink. ‘When are you going to ask her, anyway? How’re you going to do it?’ 

‘Dunno,’ said James, looking a little alarmed. ‘Thought I’d just ask her when she was in a good mood-’

‘Every girl’s dream, that,’ said Remus, rolling his eyes. 

‘Look, I haven’t decided anything beyond that yet, all right?’ said James defensively. ‘I just… In the hospital I realised I can’t really hang about. Who knows what could happen? I mean, she almost died. Any of us could have died. It’s going to happen anyway, there’s no point in waiting and hoping someone doesn’t kill us before we get the chance.’

They felt oddly chastised at this. ‘Fair enough,’ said Sirius, after a few silent moments. ‘It has been fun having her around, I suppose she won’t necessarily ruin things.’

‘Do you… D’you want to help me find a ring?’ James asked awkwardly. His confidence seemed to have shrunk slightly; he was peeling the label off his beer. 

‘Well who else is going to?’ asked Sirius. ‘I mean, it falls within the responsibility of the best man, doesn’t it?’

‘Obviously. I except a good stag night, mind you. D’you get it? Haha…’ 

‘Well, she’ll never agree to marry you unless you stop telling shit jokes.’ 

It was remarkable, thought Remus, a little while later, how swiftly Sirius had gone from horror to perhaps more enthusiastic than even James once he realised he would be in the coveted position of best man. The deck of cards quite forgotten, the night was given over to planning the perfect proposal for Lily Evans and a stag night fit for heroes. 

…………………

Just one week later, after an Order meeting (which had consisted mostly of a dreary account of Benjy Fenwick’s spying on a suspected Death Eater), Dumbledore summoned him for a private chat. He felt oddly nervous, as he knocked on the door, as though he were being summoned to the Headmaster’s office for poor behaviour. But he was not a Headmaster here, he reminded himself, and it was not an office but a small drawing room, from which Dumbledore’s cheery voice beckoned him to enter. 

For some reason, he was mildly surprised that it was not like his office at Hogwarts. Instead of the walls covered in portraits and the spindly tables cluttered with delicate objects, the drawing room at the Headquarters was surprisingly bare, quite devoid of Dumbledore’s, or indeed anyone’s personality. Like the meeting room, it was dominated by a vast window, misted from the cold night air outside. Dumbledore sat with his back to it at a plain wooden desk, a quill in hand and a pile of papers to one side. 

‘Good evening, Remus,’ he said with a smile. ‘How are you? Please do take a seat.’ 

‘Not your usual style, Professor,’ said Remus, gesturing around the room as he sat opposite.

‘No,’ sighed Dumbledore unhappily. ‘Quite unfortunate, I would like to spruce the place up with some potted plants at the very least, but this Elphias’s house, and he uses this room as a study. He’s always been of the opinion that a clear room facilitates a clear mind, but I would argue that one becomes preoccupied by imagining how he would like to   
make himself feel more at home. Alas, we must abide by the rules of common courtesy and suffer through our host’s remarkably substandard choices of furniture. Tea?’   
Remus smiled affectionately at his old teacher, and nodded. With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore summoned a squat blue teapot, which floated in mid-air and poured perfectly hot tea into a cup which jumped up from the table. Remus had often wondered if any other student had had tea with the Headmaster quite as regularly as he, and he was secretly delighted that it seemed to be a habit that would continue. 

‘Why did you ask to see me, Professor?’ he asked. 

Dumbledore surveyed him over his spectacles, stirring his own tea delicately. ‘A few matters. Firstly I would like to thank you for your quick action in Diagon Alley.’ 

Remus didn’t know what to say. To say thank you seemed awkward, to say you’re welcome sounded arrogant. He settled for a short nod. 

‘It may not have occurred to you all, but your actions were of severe consequence for Lord Voldemort’s strategy.’

‘Oh,’ said Remus, blinking. ‘Right… No, I hadn’t really considered… I mean, someone did say the orders might have come from the top, but I suppose I just thought it was a random attack… Does this mean we could be targets?’ 

Dumbledore did not seem perturbed by Remus’s reaction; he simply tapped his teaspoon on the edge of the cup, its delicate chime echoing. ‘Indeed,’ he said gravely.   
‘Thankfully I don’t believe your identities are fully known, but I would urge you to be cautious. I have already spoken to Mr Potter and Miss Evans about this; James in particular is likely to be recognised by a Death Eater eventually, and though Miss Evans was badly burned, and thus thankfully not recognised so far, it was she who disrupted Lord Voldemort’s plan most of all.’

‘She did?’

‘Very much so. I didn’t announce this at the meeting, as it is sensitive information concerning someone still very much alive, but the woman the Death Eaters were torturing was a strident Muggleborn rights activist and the keeper of certain information crucial to Lord Voldemort, which I shan’t divulge. They would surely have killed her after extracting the information, but they did not count on so many brave young Order members being there, particularly one such as Lily Evans.’ 

‘They shouldn’t have made such a dramatic entrance then,’ said Remus. 

‘Indeed,’ said Dumbledore slowly, his eyes seeming to pierce Remus as they searched his face. 

‘But then… I suppose they were trying to make a statement, weren’t they?’ 

‘Statement, example… Perhaps just for the fun of it. I suspect a customer of the café was placed under the Imperius curse to cause the explosion – a new tactic from them, but one that I expect we could see more of.’ 

‘Yes,’ said Remus. ‘Professor… Er… May I ask why you called me here? Is it just to discuss the café attack? Not that I mind, of course,’ he added quickly. 

‘You always were unfailingly polite, Remus,’ said Dumbledore kindly. ‘And intuitive. You’re right to think that I called you here for another reason, as of course, I did, and it’s for a reason I would prefer was kept strictly between us.’

‘Of course, Professor.’ 

‘How have you been dealing with your transformations over the last few months?’ asked Dumbledore.   
Remus seemed to shrink into his seat. ‘Oh… Well, I’ve been going to remote locations… Setting up a few repelling charms…’ 

‘And where might these locations be?’ 

‘Well mostly…’ He felt highly uncomfortable, and looked away as he paused. ‘Why? What does it matter?’ 

‘Are you aware of the rogue werewolf colonies?’

Remus’s eyes flicked up to meet Dumbledore’s. He stared silently for a moment, suddenly aware that he was breathing deeply. ‘I’m… aware of their existence.’ 

‘But you have not decided to join them?’ prompted Dumbledore.

‘No,’ replied Remus shortly. 

‘And of course, why would you?’ said Dumbledore cheerfully. ‘I hear your employment at Flourish and Blotts is a roaring success.’  
Remus didn’t answer; he drank his tea, a mad desire to stand and leave without a word making his leg tremble slightly. 

‘But I’m sure you understand that these communities are at once vulnerable and yet also dangerous, and therefore they are unfortunately prime recruitment ground for Lord Voldemort.’

‘Yes, well,’ said Remus briskly, putting down his cup with a slight shake. ‘That’s why I don’t… Why I wouldn’t ever… Those packs are full of monsters.’ His face flushed as he said it, and he looked down at his knees. 

‘They are men and women who are, or at one point were, much like you,’ corrected Dumbledore quietly. 

‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ he lied. ‘I meant… My dad’s told me all about them, you know. And Mr Ely. They don’t even try and fit in with normal society anymore, and they… They’re the dangerous ones. The ones that end up turning people.’ 

Dumbledore sighed, his fingers formed a steeple in front of him. ‘Yes, I’m sure Mr Ely has told you all about them,’ he said gravely. 

‘You don’t like him either?’ 

Perhaps he was being polite, for Dumbledore didn’t answer, but Remus was sure he saw a slight grimace beneath the snowy white beard. ‘Tell me, Remus, how much contact do you have with the Werewolf Registration Committee?’ 

‘Not much. Mum and Dad took me every now and then, if I’d had a particularly bad time of it or someone was beginning to suspect and we needed somewhere new to go.’

‘They may not have informed you, but they received monthly letters asking for a report of your most recent transformation, any concerns they might have, and your current size and weight, in order to estimate strength. When you came of age, these letters were supposed to come to you.’ 

‘I haven’t had any letters,’ said Remus, honestly. 

‘No, I didn’t think you had,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Your parents had been receiving them only very sporadically in the last few years. Mr Ely’s committee is poorly organised, poorly run, and dangerously inept. The truth of the matter is that the Ministry cannot possibly know the population and whereabouts of werewolves in this country while that incompetent man remains in charge.’

Remus had never heard Dumbledore speak so plainly or angrily before. It did not frighten him; rather, he felt oddly flattered that Dumbledore spoke to him as an adult, trusted and capable. 

‘In the meantime, however, the werewolf packs are vulnerable to exploitation and corruption. Lord Voldemort promises them things that we may well know he will never deliver, but the very hope of them is enough to convince angry, desperate and terrified people.’ 

‘And you want me to what, convince them otherwise?’ asked Remus. The idea of it was monumentally intimidating and near impossible. 

‘My dear young man, as much as I truly believe you are intelligent, brave and utterly charming, I would not be so foolish as to assume you would be capable of such a thing, nor would I place the burden of even trying on your head. No, what I ask of you is that you simply keep me informed. You have a strong enough mind, good enough friends, and a good enough place in society that you will not be at risk of brainwashing and corruption. But others will not.’ 

‘You want me to spy on them?’ 

‘Yes,’ said Dumbledore, taking Remus aback with his honesty. ‘Gain their trust, listen to their concerns, even agree with them if you must. For now keeping me informed is enough; when we have a clearer picture of the path ahead, we may strive to counter Voldemort’s efforts.’ 

Remus nodded slowly. ‘Where do I find them?’ he asked. 

‘Leave that with me,’ said Dumbledore. ‘I will inform you closer to the next full moon. And rest assured; should you wish, at any moment, to leave your task – should your life be in danger – you may freely choose to return to more regular Order duties.’ 

………

Daily life at Flourish and Blotts was ushered into a renewed buzz as November plodded along and Christmas grew closer. The tall shelves were adorned with large, multi-coloured baubles which glowed pleasantly, a new of books insisted on singing Christmas carols until Mrs Atwood lost her patience and sold them at a sickle each, and Remus was increasingly asked to cover extra shifts, the threat of consequences if he missed more work looming.   
Ingolf was watching him as he reorganised the shelves, he was sure of it. He hadn’t caught her staring, exactly, but every time he turned in her direction, her blonde hair was swinging as though she had just turned her head very quickly. 

He wished Mr Golding would stop trying to set him up with his niece. He was sure Sirius would like her; she was classically beautiful with pale blonde hair, porcelain skin, and grey-blue eyes. She dressed Muggle style, the way Sirius liked, her hair rolled into large, soft curls, her Muggle jeans (which had been the subject of complaints from some of the older, traditional customers) flared from the knee. 

Perhaps, in another life, he would have allowed himself to be attracted to her. Perhaps he would have found her accent charming, her stories about Durmstrang interesting, her habit of wearing only grey, white or black stylish. Perhaps he would have even found the graceful way she swung her hips as she walked alluring. 

Certainly Sirius would, and he could only imagine how he would roll his eyes if he could see Remus ignoring her attempts to make conversation each day. What she saw in him at all Remus had no idea; perhaps Mr Golding had been talking him up a bit. But certainly she was far too good for him.  
He moved out of sight, down the stairs into the dusty, dark section on potion brewing in the basement level. Some of the books down here preferred damp, dark air, and the sort of customers who came to buy potions books and recipes tended to know exactly what they wanted, rather than spending long, happy minutes browsing the endless shelves of the shop floor. 

He had hoped for some peace in here, as he discounted the price of Pockmarked No More, Cosmetic Potions for Ugly Witches and Wizards, for the prospect of joining a werewolf colony in just over a week was causing him such anxiety that he was growing prone to headaches. 

Not to mention, he needed to find yet another excuse to take time off work. He thought briefly of struggling through it, but imagined that vomiting on a customer might get him fired anyway. So far he had worked at the bookshop for four months, and had already used the excuses of illness, a wedding, a funeral and another illness. James had suggested that they fake a Death Eater kidnap, but Remus didn’t think his acting skills were up to it. 

‘Have you hung the mistletoe yet?’ 

He jumped slightly, and glanced over his shoulder to see Ingolf leaning casually at the bottom of the stairs. 

‘Oh, no, not yet, sorry, I’ll just do it after-’

‘Don’t worry, I can do it now,’ she said. Her accent was rhythmic; a slow bounce to her inflection. She moved towards him slowly, almost like a prowl, her head tilted. 

‘I really don’t mind,’ he said quickly, ‘I’ll just finish in here and then-’

‘Are you very shy, Remus?’ she asked him softly. 

He was panicking now, he felt a lurch of dread somewhere around his navel, and he tried to turn back to the shelves. ‘No, I’m just busy,’ he said. He rose sharply, defiantly avoiding looking at her as he tried to move past her back towards the stairs. 

‘Oh,’ he heard her say, disappointment tinging her voice. ‘Yes, I understand.’ 

He was halfway up the stairs when he realised she was hurrying behind him. ‘Well, what are your plans for Christmas?’ she asked him brightly. ‘I can’t go back to Sweden, so I’ll be so bored just with my Aunt and Uncle-’

‘A friend has invited me and my family to stay with them,’ said Remus honestly, though he neglected to mention it was just for Christmas Eve. 

She kept trying to talk, but Remus saw a lost looking woman by one of the bookcases and seized his chance. 

‘Can I help you?’ he asked, trying to ignore the fact that Ingolf was still trying to loiter nearby. 

‘Oh… Er…’ mumbled the woman. She looked dazed and exhausted; her shoulder length dark brown hair fell in greasy straggles, dark purple bags seemed to be pulling down on her eyes. ‘No, I’m sure I can manage…’

‘Please, I’m sure I can help,’ said Remus firmly, desperate to avoid Ingolf. 

The woman looked cautiously over her shoulder, and her voice was quiet and hoarse as she spoke. ‘Do you… Do you have any books on werewolves?’   
Remus was struck first by mild surprise, then by an odd mix of warmth and pity. ‘Of course,’ he said kindly. ‘Right this way.’ 

He gently touched her shoulder as he guided her to the dark creatures section. He could hear Ingolf’s footsteps following them. ‘This side is more about identifying werewolves,’ he said, minding to keep his voice low as gestured. ‘This side is about the common effects of the condition and how to live with it.’

‘That’s the side I need,’ she whispered. 

He nodded. ‘I recommend this one.’ He picked up Coping With Transformations, by Conan Zeer, and with trembling hands she took it from him. ‘It has a lunar chart at the back,’ he told her. 

‘Right…’ she said, her jaw shaking slightly. ‘Yes, I hadn’t even thought of that… Thank you.’ 

‘Not at all,’ he said. He took her back to the till and wrapped the book in brown paper packaging for her. Ingolf was still skulking nearby, an oddly ugly expression on her face. 

‘Hang on,’ the woman said. ‘I might have the correct change-’

‘We don’t need it,’ said Ingolf suddenly. ‘We’re quite all right, thank you.’ 

The woman looked at her with a startled, hurt expression. ‘Of course. Excuse me.’ 

The woman left, clutching the book to her chest, and as soon as the bell tinkled behind her, Ingolf raced over to him. She had summoned a bottle of Magical Mess Remover and a rag. ‘God, how disgusting,’ she said, looking revolted. ‘Wipe down everything she touched, here-’

She thrust the cleaning supplies into his hand, shaking her head in horrified exasperation. ‘I’ll go and inform Uncle,’ she said. ‘We can’t let her in here again, I was so worried she’d attack you as soon as my back was turned.’ 

‘I don’t think this is necessary-’

‘Of course it is, suppose she had an open cut and bled on something? I’ll be right back.’ 

Remus felt humiliated, but Ingolf didn’t see the distress on his face as she turned sharply on her heel and headed towards the back office.  
Remus swallowed, his heart hammering in his chest. He remembered the Healer scrubbing her hands. He dropped the cleaning solution clumsily on the till and darted out of the shop. 

It was dusk, but the Christmas shopping crowds were still out in force, and for a few moments he stood, spinning helplessly in the middle of the street, desperately searching despite his increasing belief that he had left it too long. 

But then, he saw her, walking away towards the Leaky Cauldron, shuffling along with her head bowed. 

‘Hey!’ he shouted, running after her. ‘Hey! Excuse me!’

She turned slightly, met his eyes as he stumbled through the crowd, and then turned back and continued walking. 

‘Wait!’ he shouted, and finally he reached her and grabbed her arm. 

‘What?’ she demanded, and now he saw that her eyes were full of tears. 

‘I just… I just wanted to say that I understand what you’re going through,’ he said. She was crying but silent as she stared intensely at him, breathing heavily in an almost angry way. ‘I really do,’ he continued emphatically. ‘That’s how I knew which book to recommend… Please, I know it feels terrible, and I know some people don’t understand-’

‘I saw that girl,’ she said, her voice cracking. ‘I saw her following me around-’

‘I know, she doesn’t understand, but I do.’

She didn’t say anything, just stared at him with tired eyes. 

‘I’ve been like this for a long time,’ he told her. ‘But I have friends, and a job, and I manage. You’ll be all right. Really, you will.’ 

She looked him up and down slowly, her face full of misery, then walked away without saying a word.


	6. Chapter Six

‘I’m sure you can understand,’ Mr Golding said awkwardly, looking everywhere but Remus’s face. 

Remus felt sick. His heart was thudding. ‘Who complained?’ he asked, his throat dry. 

‘That’s… That’s not really important,’ replied Mr Golding. ‘It’s just been… brought to our attention, you see.’ 

Remus realised his lips were trembling slightly as he spoke. ‘Well, if I could just have that time off, no one else need know-’

‘If a customer has noticed, we are duty bound to put a stop to it,’ said Mr Golding firmly, though his cheeks were pink. ‘Come on, lad, we have little kiddies coming in here…’

‘I wouldn’t hurt them!’ exclaimed Remus, his voice cracking. 

There was a terrible silence. Remus looked away, trying to wipe his eyes in a subtle way, something akin to fear making his chest feel oddly tight. 

‘We’ll give you a good reference, of course,’ said Mr Golding. His voice sounded kindly, but Remus felt as though he had been betrayed. ‘You have been an excellent worker-’

‘So there’s no need,’ said Remus pleadingly. ‘It’s… It’s a perfectly manageable condition when handled carefully-’

‘I understand,’ said Mr Golding, though he didn’t look like he understood at all. ‘But I think it’s for the best. For the safety of our customers.’ 

Remus took a deep, shuddering breath to calm himself. There was no going back from this, no persuading or pleading would soothe the squeamish fear of those that didn’t understand. ‘You won’t mention it in my reference, will you?’ 

Mr Golding looked hesitant, but his eyes finally met Remus’s, and perhaps he saw some humanity in them. ‘No, I won’t… If you promise me you won’t be working round children,’ he said at last. ‘Not little kiddies, lad. They can’t defend themselves. I bet you were a kid yourself when it happened, weren’t you?’ 

Remus felt humiliated. It’s none of your business, he wanted to shout at him. Don’t you realise how personal that is? His silence was as good a confirmation as any, and Mr Golding gave a slight nod and a sigh. 

When Remus left the office, Ingolf was waiting outside. She was wearing white rubber gloves and a look of revulsion, a bottle of magical cleaner under her arm.   
……….

The scrape of his key coming out the lock and the slight echo of his footsteps on the hardwood floor seemed magnified in the silence of the house. He was hardly surprised; when he had left for work that morning, the rest of the Marauders had still been in bed, and he had been gone less than an hour. 

‘Hello?’ called a mumbled voice from the kitchen. 

Remus tried to rearrange his expression of self-loathing to something more pleasant before he entered. There was James, sitting at the table in a shirt and boxers, munching sleepily over a bowl of cereal. 

‘I’m glad it’s you,’ he said thickly. ‘My wand’s upstairs and I was a bit worried about having to fight off an intruder with a spoon.’ 

Remus gave a weak smile. ‘Glad to see you sprang into action anyway.’ 

‘You all right?’ Realisation seemed to dawn on James as he frowned. ‘Why are you back? Forget your wallet?’ 

He shook his head, and wondered how to say it without crying like a child. ‘They found out,’ he said at last, his voice still oddly hoarse. 

James swore. ‘How?’ 

‘He said someone came in and told them.’ 

‘Sit down,’ said James firmly, dropping his bowl with a clatter onto the side. ‘I’ll get you a tea-’

‘There’s no need-’ began Remus, though by now James knew him well enough to understand that his refusal was merely politeness.

‘Course there is.’

‘Really, I’m fine-’

‘No, you’re not.’ Before Remus could argue any further, James was filling up the kettle, swearing under his breath. ‘Who could have told them?’ he asked furiously. ‘None of us, obviously, but no one else knows-’

‘People in the Order, maybe,’ said Remus glumly. 

‘They wouldn’t!’ said James, who looked appalled. ‘Anyway, I don’t think they do know, Dumbledore’s pretty subtle about it, isn’t he?’ 

Remus shrugged. ‘People at the hospital too, I suppose… Could be anyone really.’ He was torn between being beyond caring and wanting to break something.   
James planted a mug of tea in front of him; its warmth was mildly calming, but James never put enough sugar in. 

‘I just don’t believe it,’ said James. ‘It’s just so horribly unfair.’ 

‘It was going to happen eventually anyway,’ said Remus heavily. ‘I don’t know why I thought it could last this long in the first place. You can see their concern. If it became public knowledge-’

James swore so loudly that they began to hear movement upstairs; he had evidently woken someone up. It seemed odd, but Remus appreciated his anger. 

‘No, I can’t see their concern! It’s just… It’s… How can they do that?’ James exclaimed, one hand gripping his hair in furious bewilderment. ‘Just because you’ve got an illness, after everything-’ 

‘It’s fine,’ said Remus quietly, though he didn’t feel fine at all. 

‘No it’s bloody well not, it’s an outrage, I’m going to go down there and-’

‘You will not,’ said Remus sharply. ‘I’ll get another job, I have enough saved to pay the rent this month. They’re going to give me a good reference, I’m not going to burn my   
bridges.’ 

Sirius stomped grumpily into the kitchen, Peter yawning behind him, asking what all the noise was about, and was just as loudly furious as James when he was informed. 

‘I’m going to go down there-’ 

‘I already said that,’ growled James. ‘Moony won’t let us.’ 

Remus gave a heavy sigh and took another gulp of tea. He should have expected it, really. He and his parents had moved all over the place when he was young, leaving villages and towns the moment they noticed that someone had become suspicious. The only constant had been his mother’s tiny art shed, carefully deconstructed and rebuilt over and over again. It seemed to Remus that the same sort of transient lifestyle would face him as an adult. 

‘Right then, we’ll make this Monday a bloody good one,’ said Sirius, in a heroic sort of manner. ‘Why don’t we all go to the lake again? We haven’t been back there-’

‘I can’t,’ said Remus suddenly. 

They all looked at him. ‘What?’ asked Peter. ‘Why? What do you mean?’

‘I… I’m doing this month alone,’ said Remus hesitantly. 

Sirius frowned at him. ‘Alone? Don’t be daft.’

‘Don’t become a weird recluse just because your manager’s a dick,’ said James. ‘You know we’ll look after you.’

‘I know that, that’s not it.’

‘Well what is it, then?’

They were all looking at him expectantly; his promise to Dumbledore to keep his mission secret left him in a difficult situation. He had thought of asking Dumbledore to give   
the rest of them jobs that night, but that would have revealed that they were at least present when he transformed. 

‘I think the Werewolf Registration Committee is keeping an eye on me,’ he said at last. ‘They want to know where I’m going, and I suppose they’ll want to check I’m definitely away from other people somehow-’

‘We could come halfway through the night,’ offered Peter. ‘Transform the moment we apparate, it’ll be safe enough.’

Remus couldn’t seem to control his gaze. No matter how much he tried to force himself to look at his friends faces, he found his eyes searching the room to rest on something   
else. The bright cereal box James had left on the sunny yellow counter, the exposed bricks behind the stove, Sirius’s gleaming motorbike helmet on the windowsill. 

‘Probably safer if we skip it this month, chaps,’ he tried to say bracingly. ‘Next time.’

‘You’re just being overcautious because of what’s happened,’ said Sirius. ‘You don’t need to isolate yourself, it doesn’t make sense. We’ve been riskier before.’ There was a look of distrust on his face. Remus’s lie had been too weak to dupe him. Peter merely looked confused, and seemed to be looking to Sirius to know how to feel. 

James, on the other hand, looked understanding. ‘If it makes you feel better,’ he told Remus. ‘But we’ll be here for next month, and all the times after that.’   
Remus nodded, the glum realisation dawning that though he had been cruelly liberated from lying to his employer, he was now expected to lie to his friends. Thanking them, and insisting that he should go and inform his parents, he drained his tea and left. 

…………….

‘Well you must have told someone,’ said his father abruptly, pacing the kitchen. 

‘Lyall…’ said Hope wearily. 

‘I didn’t,’ mumbled Remus. He was sat miserably at the table with his mother, avoiding his father’s gaze by staring down at the flowery tablecloth.

‘You must have done. People don’t just guess that sort of thing, you must have let something slip-’

‘Don’t shout at him, Lyall-’

‘I’m not shouting at him! Remus, think hard, is there anyone you might have told lately?’

‘No,’ said Remus immediately, though he knew he had been careless. ‘I told you, they just looked at my absence dates and realised-’

‘Most people don’t take any notice of the moon and its phases,’ said Lyall. 

‘Some people do,’ said Hope defensively. ‘Really, Lyall, now is not the time. Can I get you a tea, Remus?’

‘My friends already made me one-’

‘Now is the time! If someone’s going round making it public, we need to find a way of stopping them as quickly as possible-’

‘How’re we going to do that?’ asked Remus irritably. ‘I tell you what, you and me will go looking for them while Mum digs a big hole in the garden. I’ll keep a look out while you bash them over the head with something heavy.’ 

Lyall perhaps realised he had gone too far. He fell silent, and left the room, pulling the door quietly shut behind him. 

‘Pay him no attention, love,’ said Hope. ‘He’s just angry. Not at you!’ she added hastily. ‘Just… the whole situation.’ 

‘Well it’s my situation to be angry about,’ said Remus in stubborn childishness. 

She gave a small, soft smile, rose and embraced him, pulling his head to her chest and kissing the top of his sandy hair. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘You can be as angry as you want.’

‘I’m not, really. I’m just sad.’ He paused, feeling her hand reassuringly rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. ‘Broken-hearted, actually,’ he said honestly. ‘I was good at that job, Mum. It seemed perfect.’ 

‘There are lots of broken hearts in the world, love, but they still beat. You’ll be all right. No sense in making things harder for yourself by wallowing.’ Her chair made a loud scraping noise as she pulled it round to sit close to him. ‘Now,’ she said matter-of-factly, ‘let’s think about what we can put on your CV about reasons for leaving.’ 

……………………………………………………

He spent the day of the full moon in feverish delirium, shivering and sweating on his bed. Ingolf wandered in and out of his dreams, sneering at him and calling him disgusting from her position on Sirius’s lap. Every now and then he would force his way to the bathroom, throwing up violently, occasionally aware of someone like James or Peter trying to help.

The days were very short, so close to Christmas, so the daylight from the window was a muted grey, as though drained of life. As his energy began to return in preparation for his transformation, he swung his legs shakily over the bed and sat, leaning heavily on his knees. He gazed wearily at the clock on the bedside table and saw that he would have to leave in ten minutes. Beneath the clock was a folded piece of parchment, and he took it to read one more time. It was Dumbledore’s instructions, reminding him to become a part of the group and try to catch names and descriptions. The location was found by listening to an obscure station on the wireless. He had listened to it the day before, it had crackled and hummed until, on the hour, a gruff voice said, ‘Dunwich.’ 

He pulled on a shirt and left his room. The others were sitting in the living room, laughing around the wireless. Lily was with them, and she spotted him through the doorway as he was putting on his cloak, calling his name with tentative friendliness. Everyone stopped laughing and looked at him with concern, though the voices on the radio continued to jabber away enthusiastically.

‘Where’re you going to go, mate?’ asked James. ‘Are you really sure? It’s freezing. What about afterwards? It takes you a while to wake-’

‘I’ll be fine,’ he said, his voice too hoarse to sound as firm as he wanted. ‘Enjoy your night.’ 

‘Good luck,’ said Peter, and then they were silent as he left. 

He apparated to a desolate, flat looking place. Though he couldn’t hear or see it, the taste of salt on the air made him sure the sea was nearby, and the coarse patches of long marsh grass bent in the strong wind. He immediately shivered and pulled his cloak closer to himself; it may as well have been night, for the dark clouds above him stretched to the red smear on the horizon where the sun was setting. Ahead was the glow of a bonfire, and the sounds of drunken jeering. The silhouettes of a small group of people against the fire made him feel afraid, but he approached anyway, feeling as though his heart was beating in his throat. 

‘Oi oi,’ called a gruff voice. ‘’Oose this, then?’ 

There was a ripple of laughter, and someone croaked, ‘lots of new blood tonight.’ 

‘Is this the colony?’ asked Remus, his voice louder than he was expecting. Now in the light of the fire he could see them; they were the sort of people he used to see standing outside the pubs his mum always called rough. Dirty, scraggly, their skin showing the tell-tale signs of poor health. He wondered if that was how he looked to others. 

The man that had called out to him grinned menacingly. His teeth were stained brown. ‘An’ who might you be? One of us, are yah?’ Remus nodded, and the man gave a cackling laugh. ‘Guess we’ll find out, won’t we? Come on, sit down, grab a beer. We’re all friends here, ain’t we Dana?’ 

He winked at a woman crouching down by the fire, who giggled manically. ‘Ooh, Alf, you are bad!’ 

Another man, thin and stringy looking with a dark bruise over one eye, handed Remus a bottle of cheap-looking beer. ‘Newly turned?’ he asked. ‘Don’t worry, we’re all right, really. Gwen’s new too, aren’t you, Gwen?’

‘No, not new, I just-’ he did a double take as he looked to where the stringy man was pointing. The woman from Diagon Alley was there, her dark hair tucked behind her ears in greasy strands, he eyes staring into the fire. 

He snapped back to the man as he was patted on the shoulder. ‘Lost your safe place,’ he said sympathetically. ‘Or person. Whatever. Gotcha. Always happens in the end. Don’t worry, mate, we’ve got your back now.’ 

Remus didn’t want to drink; he still felt sick and though it had seemed like a way to soften the experience with friends, here it just felt like an added risk. But everyone else was doing it, some seemed very drunk indeed, and Dumbledore had been clear that he should try to fit in.   
He sat by Gwen, and greeted her quietly. She turned her head slightly and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and didn’t return his greeting. It was clear now, the thing that he had been suspecting, but to his surprise, he didn’t feel angry. 

‘Why did you tell my boss?’ he asked her calmly. 

She didn’t try to deny it. She took a slow, deep breath, still looking into the fire. ‘It could have been you,’ she said. ‘It could have been you that did this to me.’ 

‘It wasn’t,’ he said gently.

‘How would you know?’ Her voice was dull and sad. ‘You’re a monster, and now so am I.’ 

‘Ah, don’t get down!’ Dana, the mad, giggling woman, had overheard them, and now she stumbled towards them, cigarette in hand, smiling in what she must have thought was a friendly way. Brutal scars covered one half of her face, one eye a milky white. ‘We might be monsters, but least we gots each other, eh? What’s your names?’

They told her their names solemnly, and she introduced herself, rattling off her backstory in a practiced fashion. 

Dana was in her thirties when she was turned. She had heard screaming, and ran to find her son being attacked by a werewolf. She had tried to fight the werewolf off, but in the ensuing struggle her son had died and she was bitten. After that, her husband, afraid to live with her, divorced her, and the Ministry granted him custody of their remaining children. The scars on her face meant that she had never fit in anywhere and she had stayed with the colony for the past decade. She told all of them this in a surprisingly cheerful fashion, though Remus noticed that her hands were jittering against her leg, and he wondered if she had taken some kind of illegal potion. 

‘You lost your whole family?’ 

‘Not as bad as some,’ she said, then lowered her voice. ‘We had one girl a few years ago who had a baby from someone here, the Ministry came and took it off her. Dunno what happened to it. She chucked herself off Clifton Suspension Bridge in the end.’ 

‘So most people here don’t have families?’ asked Gwen, who looked distraught. ‘We can’t ever have families? Kids, or husbands?’ 

‘This lot are my family,’ she said proudly. ‘We don’t turn no werewolf away, everyone is welcome. Alf’s leading at the moment because a few of the lads are in prison, he’s a good ‘un.’ 

‘Who’s usually in charge?’ began Remus, but Gwen, her voice growing more and more frantic, interrupted.  
‘Where do you live when it’s not full moon?’

‘Most of us live together, all the time,’ said Dana. ‘We goes from place to place. We’ve got some caravans, but we park ‘em away so we don’t end up wrecking ‘em. Mebbe you’s will end up doing the same.’

Gwen burst into tears. ‘I don’t want to live like a gypsy, I have a home!’

‘Sure you do now, love,’ said Dana, and despite her lack of tact Remus could see genuine sympathy in her face. ‘But after a while you just can’t keep it up anymore. I ‘spect that’s what’s happened to you, is it, Remus?’ 

Remus nodded. ‘Yes. I had a cellar that I could be sealed in to keep me away from people.’ 

‘I’m sorry I got you sacked,’ sniffed Gwen, wiping her nose on her wrist as she sobbed.

‘It’s all right, it was going to happen anyway.’ 

‘Cor!’ Dana’s eyes widened. ‘You had a job? Darren! Darren! This bloke had a job!’ 

‘Fuck off he did,’ called a bearded man on the other side of the bonfire. 

‘He did! He worked- What did you do, love?’ she asked him quickly. 

‘I worked in a bookshop-’

‘HEAR THAT, DARREN?’ She rose, pointing a finger at Remus and glaring over the flames at Darren. ‘Remus had a job serving the public! So I could get a job you cynical old fart!’ 

‘He hasn’t got a fucked up face like you, Dana, you mad cow-’

Gwen was crying harder than ever, and while Dana was distracted with her argument, Remus tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘These people are really at their very last resort,’ he said kindly. ‘There are ways of coping.’ 

‘How come you’re here too, then?’ 

‘I lost my job,’ he reminded her carefully, and her lip trembled before she began to sob again. 

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ she moaned. 

‘It’s all right, I’ll get another one,’ he said. He was starting to feel a prickle on his skin. The moon was close. ‘Is this your first month?’ he asked her. She nodded. ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘It’ll be ok. It’s not so bad really. You’ll get through it…’ 

He tried his best to give her comforting lies as the moon rose, its face cold white and pockmarked, sending tearing, prickling pain over his skin. 

……………………………………………….

He returned home in the early hours, quickly scribbling a note to Dumbledore about the previous night, listing as many names and descriptions as he could remember in his post-transformation haze. He signed it, then sighed, his quill poised over the end of the parchment. 

P.S They all seemed really nice, once you got to know them

The stairs creaked as he climbed them, perhaps it was this that woke Peter, for he opened his door as Remus passed. ‘All right?’ he asked him. 

‘Yeah, fine.’ 

Peter nodded. ‘Sirius took his bike out, I think he might be bringing back stuff for a fry up.’ 

‘That’d be good. I’m going to go to bed for a bit first, though, still feel a bit woozy.’ 

‘Yeah, course, yeah…’ Peter chewed on his lip slightly, then burst out, ‘what aren’t you telling us? We all know something’s up, you know.’ 

‘Nothing.’

Peter glanced down the corridors to the closed doors of Sirius and James’s bedrooms. ‘Is it something to do with the Order? Because Dumbledore asked Sirius and James to do something and they won’t tell me what either. No one tells me anything.’ 

Remus looked down and found himself nodding. He was beginning to remember bits and pieces from last night. The familiar friendly stag and dog and rat replaced with a wilder, fiercer pack, all of them running through the marshes, snapping at each other’s heels. 

‘Well I won’t tell anyone,’ said Peter. ‘And you don’t have to tell me what it is exactly. But you can’t expect to be acting all shifty and us to just be fine with it. We’re not stupid.’ 

‘Prongs and Padfoot annoyed with me too, then?’ 

‘Well, yeah, a bit. They always looked forward to full moon.’

‘Yeah. They did… Sorry,’ he added quickly when Peter frowned. ‘I know you’re all just trying to help.’ 

Peter didn’t look convinced, but gave him a nod and said, ‘get some sleep. You look awful.’ 

‘Cheers,’ Remus replied with an attempt at a grin. He stumbled into his bedroom, and lay heavily on the bed. He thought of Gwen, how frightened she had been, and how lost   
she had seemed in the morning. He found that he wasn’t angry with her for telling Mr Golding about his condition. He simply felt a great deal of pity. He wondered who had turned her, whether it had been the same werewolf that had turned him, and how, if at all possible, he could make her feel happier.


	7. Chapter 7

‘Ssh!’

‘I wasn’t making any noise!’

‘Ssh!’

Arms full of candles, the three young men hurried over the snow that rested in Regent’s Park. It was only a few centimetres deep, but it crunched underfoot as they ran – or rather, tried to run hunched over, while sniggering and muttering excitably. They must have looked ridiculous. None of them believed, really, that they were at any risk of being spotted, but they loved the feeling of being on a covert mission; playing it up to ridiculous proportions, raising their knees in a comical parody of being on their tip toes.

‘Here, here! He said here-’

‘It’s much nicer over there, though-’

‘He won’t take her over there, Wormtail, you dolt.’

‘He might see the candles-’

‘Ssh, they could be here any minute! Quick!’

They sneaked to a bowed willow by the lake and ducked under the trailing branches. A gap gave them a view across the water; anywhere else, perhaps, it would have reflected the stars above, but in the city, clogged with smoke, it lay as black and still as the night itself.

They lit the tea lights with their wands, arranging them carefully on the floor, enchanting them to hover in the branches (with an extra charm to stop the flame catching) and floating on the surface of the water. 

At times they stopped to piss about--shoving snow down the back of Peter’s jumper, rearranging the candles to spell out rude or insulting words, and speculating the ridiculous things they hoped James would say. Soon the very air around them seemed to dance with tiny flames, and, delighted with their own artistic ingenuity, they chuckled and grinned at one another.

‘Can’t believe he’ll get the credit for it, the cheeky bastard,’ muttered Sirius. ‘We’re the ones doing all the hard graft.’

‘You know I’d do the same for you,’ came a voice.

They turned and saw, much to their horror, James coming through the branches, looking around approvingly. ‘Nice,’ he said, nodding at the candles. ‘Well done.’

‘What are you doing here?’ hissed Peter. ‘Where’s Lily?’

‘Said she wanted to reapply her makeup, so still at the restaurant. Think she suspects something, to be honest. Anyway, thought I’d make sure you guys hadn’t cocked up.’

‘You’re brave,’ said Remus. ‘What if she comes out and thinks you’ve dined and dashed?’

‘Moony, my friend, I may have the animagus form of a stag, but I have the heart of a lion… And a lifetime ban from London Zoo,’ he added with a deadpan nod.

‘God, you’re not funny, I don’t know how many times- You better clear off before she comes out.’

‘I will, I will, just wanted to remind you all to fuck off, clear up your footprints behind you and for the love of Merlin don’t watch me. I don’t want you lot putting me off or- or laughing at me or something.’

‘Don’t be nervous, mate, you’ll be fine,’ said Sirius.

‘I’m not nervous!’ said James. ‘I mean it, I just came to check you hadn’t messed up.’

‘OK, sure,’ said Remus.

‘We believe you,’ added Peter.

Looking rather flustered, James shook his head and looked out over the lake. ‘I mean it, you’re not allowed to watch me!’

‘You better get back to the restaurant,’ said Sirius with a smirk. Remus, hands in his pockets, tried not to laugh.

James swore, ran a hand through his hair, and Disapparated.

‘Bless him,’ said Sirius fondly. ‘Haven’t seen him this nervous since… Shit, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this nervous.’

‘He’s right, though, we should clear up our footprints,’ said Remus.

‘Then get into position – we ought to get a good view from along the bank,’ said Peter, pointing. ‘I brought some omnioculars for us all.’

‘Good man, Wormtail,’ said Sirius, clapping him on the shoulder. ‘Knew I could count on you.’

By the time they had charmed the snow into perfect, unblemished white and settled in the darkness along the bank, James and Lily were slowly making their way up the path, hand in hand.

‘It’s on,’ whispered Sirius, smacking Peter on the shoulder, who jumped into action and handed them the omnioculars. ‘You sure they can’t see us?’

‘Shouldn’t do, we’re well out of the light.’

‘Is this… Is this creepy?’

They all paused.

‘No,’ said Remus with certainty.

‘Right, good.’

They watched as James pulled back the trailing leaves of the willow. The couple paused for a second, Lily presumably taking the sight in, and then vanished momentarily from sight. When they reappeared, they saw James speaking to Lily, his head uncharacteristically bowed, then kissing her deeply.

‘This is a bit creepy,’ Remus conceded.

‘It’s too late now,’ said Sirius. ‘You’ll just have to accept that you’re a certified creep.’

‘He’s doing it, he’s doing it!’ whispered Peter urgently. James had knelt down on one knee, his hands still clutching Lily’s.

Slightly mortified with himself, Remus zoomed in with his omnioculars. James had been right, Lily didn’t look surprised at all. But whatever James was saying to her was making her smile and weep at the same time, one hand rising to her mouth as James held a small box out to her.

‘Look at him,’ sniggered Peter. ‘He’s so sappy. Who knew, eh?’

‘We all knew,’ said Sirius. ‘The man’s a hopeless case.’

‘It’s so cheesy. I could vomit.’

Remus hushed them. ‘Be nice, you can’t tease him about this.’

‘What’s the point in watching, then?’ asked Peter.

But Remus didn’t answer. James had risen, lifted Lily off her feet, swinging her round in joy.

‘Guess it’s a yes, then,’ said Sirius.

Remus was hardly surprised; he felt delighted for his friends, especially James who had been so nervous, and proud that they had been able to help. He was grinning so widely that his jaw ached, and he vaguely thought that if he was this happy just after witnessing it, how happy James must feel? He knew in his heart he would never experience such bliss, but at that moment, in the face of such an idyllic scene, he dared to allow himself to imagine.

…………………………………………

On Christmas Eve, the Lupin family made their way to Godric’s Hollow. It had become an annual tradition, so it was with warmth that Remus and James’s parents exchanged polite kisses on the cheek and shoulder slaps for the men--the kind of friendship that began with awkward chit-chat on Platform nine and three quarters and had developed into something far happier. The Pettigrews were here, too, along with Lily’s parents, old Batty Bagshot from next door, and some old employees of Mr Potter’s. Not to mention Sirius who looked right at home leaning on the mantelpiece with a bottle of beer.

Mrs Potter was a glamourous sort of woman; she had often been the model for Mr Potter’s famous haircare potion and was sociable, a loud laugher, and renowned for her parties. Tonight she was wearing sequined robes of festive red with large bell sleeves in the modern style. She beamed at them as she handed them a glass of fizz; it was not just a Christmas gathering but the celebration of the recent engagement of her son. The room was bright with Christmas colours, the cosy beams Remus knew so well from holiday visits strung with tinsel and the large Christmas tree heavy with baubles.

‘A toast,’ boomed Mr Potter, raising his glass, ‘to my wonderful daughter-in-law-to-be and my own boy, who has clearly struck it lucky. I shall give you a tip to make sure your marriage is as long and as happy as mine – do all things with love, always. Especially apologising, which I suspect James will do a lot of.’

They all laughed, and James gave a bashful nod, but looked delighted. 

Mr Potter winked at him, and, with great pride, said, ‘to the happy couple.’

‘To the happy couple,’ came the returning chorus.

The wireless was turned up, the latest song from the Hobgoblins prompted the parents into some embarrassing dancing, and Remus found himself instinctively offering to help pass round a tray of mince pies.

‘Oh, would you? You are such a dear,’ said Mrs Potter gratefully.

He went to the Pettigrews first, who enquired about how his job was going.

‘Er… Yeah, it was good, but I thought I might try something different…’

‘Oh, really? What’s that?’

‘I don’t know yet.’

‘You quit before having another job lined up? Dear boy, you’ve been talking to Peter too much, haven’t you? I’ve warned him, I won’t keep paying his rent forever, he needs to get a job even if he does want to be in that silly Phoenix club. Sent loads of applications, or so he says, but nothing yet.’

Beside him, Peter burned a bright red. Remus mumbled something about a tough market and moved on before he could be used to criticise Peter any further.  
James and Lily were, naturally, surrounded by well-wishers, all desperate to hear their plans for the big day. Sirius, who had been granted the coveted position of Best Man, was trying to persuade them to hire the Hobgoblins as the wedding band.

‘I was thinking something small,’ Lily was saying to him in a placating tone. ‘Small and simple. We can’t go overboard, not with all the Muggles I’ll have to invite.’

‘Don’t be frightened to have a big party if you want, dear!’ Mrs Potter exclaimed. ‘There’s nothing wrong with it, and we’ll help you out! It’s the one day where you get to be treated like a real princess and have all the extravagant things you want, no shame. I wanted to make a big entrance when I arrived, so we had a unicorn-drawn wedding, didn’t   
we, Monty?’

‘Yes, it was a bloody disaster. We should have just hired a photographer,’ deadpanned Mr Potter, and though most laughed or playfully groaned, Remus’s eyes widened as he slowly turned to look at James.

‘That’s where you get your terrible sense of humour,’ he whispered to him, offering him a mince pie.

‘I’ll tell my dad you said that,’ James threatened with mischievous glint in his eye. 

‘If you need invitations, I’m your man,’ said one of Mr Potter’s old colleagues loudly, tapping his nose at Lily. ‘I did all the marketing for Sleekeazy, you know, and now I’ve got   
my own little print shop in Upper Flagley. Always happy to give a discount to the Potters.’

‘That would be wonderful!’

‘Now there’s a thought,’ said Mr Potter sharply. ‘Will you at least use the potion on your wedding day?’

‘No, Dad,’ said James wearily.

‘It’s perfectly formulated for Potter hair, do you know how long it took me-’

‘I like my hair the way it is-’

‘Years I spent wrestling it onto you to make you look half-way presentable, but you won’t even smarten up for your own wedding day-’

James’s splutter of indignation and Lily’s giggle were lost as Remus continued to circulate the mince pies amongst the guests he didn’t know.  
Soon Sirius was dancing enthusiastically with Mrs Potter, who was roaring with laughter. Hope was cheerfully explaining the concept of television to a gaggle of enthralled wizards, and his father was admiring a painting.

He approached, feeling oddly nervous. ‘Mince pie?’

His dad gave a small start as he noticed him. ‘Oh, yes, lovely.’ He took one, and turned back to the painting. ‘Look at this, Remus, isn’t it stunning? Look at the clever use of light.’

‘Very nice,’ said Remus, without really looking at the painting of a lighthouse. ‘Dad, I was hoping you’d help me… Has Mr Eley ever talked about the werewolf colonies?’

‘What do you want to know about them for?’ asked Lyall stiffly, his voice low.

‘Well, are they monitored at all? Does the Ministry-?’

‘No, it’s a disgrace.’ He glanced over his shoulder to make sure everyone was distracted with the party. ‘The Werewolf Capture Unit is supposed to perform regular raids on them – it’s not like it’s hard to find out where they are – but it hasn’t happened in years, they’ve just been allowed to grow.’ He took a long sip from his champagne. ‘Don’t tell me you’re tempted to join one?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘The thought of you with a group like that… I can barely think of anything worse, Remus. They draw vulnerable people in, and then they persuade them to do awful things.’

‘Biting people, you mean?’

‘Attacking people, vigilante attacks on critics, helping each other escape prison,’ he said, turning swiftly back to the painting. ‘I hear they get up to all sorts of sordid things too. Trying to breed and so on. Of course it never works.’

He drained the rest of his champagne, and Remus tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.

‘But you’re not going to have anything to do with them, are you, Remus?’

‘No.’ He hesitated. ‘I just wish there was a place to go. For people like me.’

‘Well, that’s what I always argued for. But you’re all right, are you? Because if you ever feel like you have to go there, come straight home, we’ll figure something out.’  
Remus nodded. ‘I’d better get back to the mince pies,’ he muttered, leaving his dad to keep admiring the lonely landscape.

He went to speak to Bathilda, the sweet old lady who had often cheered them on as they played Quidditch in James’s garden as teenagers. Her memory seemed to be slipping slightly in her old age, but she gratefully accepted Remus’s mince pie and asked him how he was getting along with History of Magic.

‘I’ve left Hogwarts now, Mrs Bagshot,’ he said. ‘I’ve been working in Flourish and Blotts. They stock your book, I’ve recommended it to lots of people.’  
‘Very kind of you; you pop in next time you’re around, and I’ll sign you a copy.’

Snow began to fall again as the evening drew closer, laughter and the scent of mulled wine filled the cottage. The wireless had been tuned to a Muggle station, and Lily, her parents, and Hope were enthusiastically teaching everyone the words to a song about dancing royalty, swaying and clicking in front of the fire as they yelled the words. Mr Potter and Sirius were exchanging rude limericks by the Christmas tree. Mr Pettigrew and Lyall were now deep in conversation about the nasty epidemic of dragon pox that seemed to be going round.

Old Bathilda and a few of the other guests eventually retired home, but the celebrations showed no sign of stopping as Mrs Potter summoned a spectacular buffet table, filled with Christmas dishes.

‘Help yourselves,’ she said, lifting the lid off a tray of pigs in blankets. ‘Hope, you must try the clementine salmon, I used the recipe you gave me last year.’

Remus was about to pick up a plate himself, but spotted a wand lying on the top of the piano. Sighing, half in amusement, half in exasperation, he picked it up and headed to the back door, where he had seen James heading a few minutes previously.

He could see James’s silhouette on the low wall that separated the raised patio from the stretching lawn beyond. The sky was filled with brilliant stars, though not enough light fell from them to see to the bottom of the large garden where Remus knew a brook babbled.

‘Here,’ he called, and James turned so the light fell onto his surprised face, taking the cigarette, glowing orange, from his mouth.

When Remus held out the wand, James patted his pockets and gave a mumbled, ‘bollocks… Cheers, mate.’

Remus tossed the wand which James caught easily, and sat on the wall next to him. His feet nearly touched the flower bed below. Last time he had been here, it had been a riot of colour, but now a thin blanket of snow was just visible in the darkness.

‘Smoke?’

‘Go on, then,’ said Remus, who only agreed to cigarettes occasionally. ‘What’re you doing sitting out here alone? Your fiancé is in there being the life and soul of the party.’

‘I know,’ said James with a proud grin. ‘Mum and Dad love her. Just needed to escape Mr Hebditch, he’s trying to persuade me to take a job in his print shop.’

Remus choked on his cigarette. ‘You bastard,’ he said through coughs as James thumped him on the back. ‘There’s a job going and you didn’t tell me?’

‘Oh, yeah, guess you could do it! Well that works out neatly, doesn’t it?’

‘Will you introduce me to him?’

‘Sure. He’s a boring old fart though, just warning you.’

‘I don’t care. I got a letter through from the Ministry the other day. Apparently my latest tax bill is outstanding.’

‘Well that’s nice of them to say, I don’t even remember you sending it.’

‘Har, har.’

‘Well, I’ll introduce you. He’ll hire you if I suggest it to him, he still worships my dad so he’ll do whatever I want.’

‘You’re such a spoilt little brat,’ Remus told him fondly.

‘I know.’ He grinned and tapped his cigarette over the ashtray next to him. ‘It’s great, I fully intend to spoil my own children. Anyway, what’s going on with you, Moony? You’ve been acting all weird the last couple of weeks. Is it just money worries? I can cover you, you know that.’

Remus considered for a moment. Perhaps it was the mulled wine, or perhaps he just felt that he could trust James to the ends of the earth, but he decided that Dumbledore was wrong to instruct him to keep everything a secret. He told James about his mission; he didn’t look surprised, but nodded with interest and listened patiently.

‘They seemed all right, a little rough around the edges, but good people. But then I was talking to my dad and he seems to be under the impression they ensnare vulnerable people and persuade them to become monsters.’

‘Well you’re not vulnerable.’

‘No, I’m not, which is why Dumbledore sent me, I think. But there’s this woman there… Stop that!’ he warned as James waggled his eyebrows. ‘She’s got to be approaching thirty.’ He chuckled as James shrugged, shaking his head slightly in an exasperated way. ‘No, really, I just feel very sorry for her. But turns out she was the one who told Mr Golding and got me fired.’

‘You’re kidding?’ He listened, mouth agape and forgotten cigarette burning out in his hand as Remus described Gwen and what she had done.

‘I thought I’d feel angry, but I don’t. She must be so frightened and confused, and when we were at the colony she just kept asking this Dana woman about the prospect of having a family or a partner. She must be at the age where she was starting to think about all that sort of stuff, and now it’s been taken away. Of course she’s angry with people like me, even if she’s one of us now.’

‘You should try and meet up with her outside the colony. Show her some friendship. Hopefully if she gets to know you, she won’t sabotage your next job.’

‘Yeah, she can leave that to me,’ joked Remus.

The door suddenly banged open, and James dropped his cigarette to the floor quicker than Remus believed possible before turning.

It was Mrs Potter, glaring at them, sounds of the party blaring from behind her. ‘Are you smoking?’ she demanded.

‘No,’ said James immediately.

Her narrowed eyes flicked to Remus. ‘Is he lying?’

He opened his mouth, but before he had the chance to answer, she shook her head.

‘Don’t let him influence you, Remus.’ She slammed the door behind her again as she went back inside.

Remus chuckled. ‘Sorry, mate, wasn’t as quick as you.’

‘Ah, never mind, she always knows, anyway.’ James rose, clapping Remus on the shoulder as he did. ‘Come on, best get back inside anyway, I’m freezing my bollocks off.’

‘Peter says you and Sirius have got a job from Dumbledore, too,’ said Remus as they stepped back over the wall.

James seemed to tense slightly. ‘Well, yeah, but he shouldn’t have told you that.’

‘Well come on then, you know my job.’

‘It’s just… Just tracking someone, that’s all. Nothing very exciting.’

‘Keeps his cards close to his chest, doesn’t he? Dumbledore, I mean,’ said Remus, as James opened the backdoor.

‘Certainly does. Who’d have thought it? Our kindly, dotty, old Headmaster, sending out spies and keeping secrets. God, I hope there’s some gingerbread cake left, Mum always adds extra black treacle.’

……………………………….

Remus was pleasantly surprised the next day to find, in the Christmas stocking that his mother had insisted should still be used despite his age, a boxy looking camera. As soon as he unwrapped it, he raised it towards his mother and pushed the shutter; within less than a minute, a small, square photograph had slid out from the bottom, gradually developing to show his mother waving merrily up at him, the Christmas tree twinkling in the background.

‘I thought,’ said his father carefully, ‘given how you’ve moved out and we can afford to treat you a little more, you deserved something to help you document everything. You know, as Mum isn’t around to hold the camera for you anymore.’

Remus looked at his father with a moment of stunned disbelief. He had never been given such an expensive gift before. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘It’s… It’s great, Dad, it really is.’

It was often hard to read Lyall’s face, as reserved and mild as he often was, but Remus was overjoyed to see his kindly nod; it was wonderful to think that his father saw his life as worth documenting. He had finally accepted that, despite Remus telling his friends and having a slight wobble with employment, he was happy, and perhaps there could be more happiness to come. 

It was this camera that he brought out at the party on New Year’s Eve, their house in London packed to bursting with old friends from school and the younger members of the Order of the Phoenix. The dozens of pictures from the night that were then pegged up on string around the living room, ringing in 1979 with bursts of happy, drunken scenes, in soft focus and washed with a slight yellow. 

The picture of Sirius with Emmeline on his lap, her flowered dress riding up to show off her long legs, her head thrown back in laughter. 

Mary, her face bursting into delighted shock as Fabian whispered something in her ear.

The photo of Marlene playfully pouting at the camera as she posed in her flowered headband. 

Kingsley and Gideon, so drunk they could barely stand up straight, singing along to whatever was playing on the gramophone. 

Peter with his arm thrown around Frank’s shoulders, the pair of them raising their glasses to the camera. 

Alice dramatically posing at the bottom of the stairs, her bright yellow heels against the bannister. 

Lily, her face scrunched up and eyes closed in uncontrollable giggles, her head resting against the back of James’s shoulder as he looked over and grinned down at the top of her deep, red hair. 

Remus was present in none of the photos. They were evidence of a night no one could really remember, as fun as it looked, and at some points he looked at them with sadness, as though they were windows into a life he should have had. But he was there, he reminded himself as the days went by. In fact, he had been the centre of it all, the one they had called over to photograph them as they posed and smiled, the one who had spotted all those moments they would want to remember in the years ahead. 

Yes, he thought as he prepared for his first day of work at the print shop, 1979 was going to be a very good year.


	8. Chapter Eight

After the frosty winter came wet and mild weather; the club-like branches of the plane trees that lined their road began to sprout green leaves, and nearby Victoria park began to feature bursts of yellow and lilac where daffodils and bluebells grew. Remus sent some to his mother, who had seemed down lately, and used his polaroid to take photos of the colourful canal boats in the hope it would inspire her to paint.

Shortly before his birthday in early March, Lily moved into the house, her cardboard boxes a little damp from the spitting rain, James’s overjoyed face just visible from behind the suitcases he was levitating up the stairs to their shared room. Remus only missed bumping into him by inches as they passed on the stairs, and found that the front door was surrounded with piles of Lily’s things. 

‘Did she really have to bring Tybalt?’ muttered Sirius grumpily, standing in the doorway to the kitchen and glaring at the wicker carrier from which yowling could be heard. 

‘I think it’ll be nice having a cat around,’ said Remus. ‘Just don’t chase him, eh, Pads?’ 

‘Don’t know why you’re so cheerful, you wait, she’ll have candles and vases of flowers everywhere before long.’

‘Sounds lovely.’ 

Sirius just gave a moody sigh and bit into some toast. ‘Aren’t you meant to be at work?’ he said thickly. ‘Or are you going to hang around and help me with my crossword?’

‘Sorry, on my way,’ said Remus promptly. ‘We’re still all going for duelling practice at Headquarters tonight, yeah?’ 

‘We’ll be there all day assuming they unpack quickly,’ Sirius told him, still looking resentfully up the stairs. Remus understood. He could hear Lily giggling in a way that he hastily took as his cue to leave. 

Mr Hebditch, or Phil, as he insisted Remus called him, owned a small printworks in an attic above a dusty looking Muggle millinery that was so seldom visited by customers that they didn’t notice the uncommonly large numbers of owls that went back and forth from the brown-brick building. 

Just as James had warned him, Phil was somewhat dull. A habit of losing track of his long-winded stories or complaints about the youth of today (which were often one and the same), Remus had swiftly learned how to appear as though he were paying attention while privately daydreaming about some other business. Despite this, he had a fondness for the stout, bearded man, whose grumpiness became endearing and rambling stories became amusing in their own right for their pointlessness. 

The work itself was another story. As Remus climbed the creaky stairs up to the print shop he resigned himself to another day of producing mundane, dull copy. Enchanting the rackety old print machines to the right specifications, sometimes moving the inky letter blocks by hand (he had still not mastered charming them into the right order like Phil), advising the client on the best design layouts or amended wording, being told firmly to do it the client’s way and the client’s way only, stacking up fresh orders and processing invoices… It was hardly interesting, and it was poorly paid too. The only major benefit was that Phil, whether from lack of caring, unawareness or out of the kindness of his own heart, did not seem to care how much time Remus took off. He never asked for a reason or explanation, never hissed through his teeth and frowned over a schedule, never emphasised to Remus how important dedication and commitment was in a career. Just continued to lean over his drawing board with his glasses halfway down his nose, and give a mumbled, ‘sure.’ 

The sunlight that streamed in from the high attic windows made the room stuffy and hot; Remus often wondered how he would cope in the summer. He hung his cloak on the brass hook by the door, and gave Phil a warm greeting as he put on his apron. 

‘New order came in last night,’ Phil said, nodding to a letter he had left on Remus’s workbench. ‘Needs to be rushed ahead and done by lunch, they’re paying extra. Do it before the St Oswald’s booklet.’

Remus picked it up curiously. It was from St Mungo’s, and they had provided a draft roughly written out on parchment. 

_DRAGON POX PANDEMIC: IMPORTANT INFORMATION FOR YOU AND YOUR FAMILY_

‘Blimey,’ said Remus, looking up at Phil. ‘It’s all getting a bit serious, isn’t it?’ 

Phil snorted. ‘Load of old rubbish. People have had dragon pox for hundreds of years, yet every time a new wave comes along they act like it’s the end of the world and no one’s ever heard of it. We were made of sterner stuff back in my day, a few sparks out your nostrils and a bit of green in your colouring was nothing to worry about. A spoonful of flobberworm oil with your breakfast and you’d be as right as rain within a few days, my mother swore by it.’

Remus gave a noncommittal hum as he leafed through the pages the hospital had provided. ‘Well, shouldn’t take me long. Tea?’

Phil gave a grunt that Remus took as an acceptance of the offer, and so he pointed his wand at the kettle in the tiny kitchen that was just visible through the tangle of machinery. He pulled out a heavy drawer and began to pick out the iron letters from their boxy little compartments, laying them out neatly on the press when he thought the word was too complex to trust magic. 

After what Phil had said, he wondered whether the words needed to be so scary. Risk. Exposure. Spread rapidly. Fatal. Vulnerable. Infection. He was sure he had suffered from a mild case of dragon pox when he was young, and it hadn’t seemed so bad. His mother had put socks on his hands to try and stop him from scratching, and he’d found his greenish hue amusing when his father lifted him up to see in the mirror. But then, he reasoned, these leaflets were for those at risk of getting it seriously. People who were old or were already ill. The initial alarm he had felt was unnecessary but probably important for some. 

A wave of his wand arranged the letters of the final paragraph neatly on the press - he was getting better and better at the spell every day. 

_If you or a member of your family shows any symptoms (or you believe may have been exposed to someone displaying these symptoms), please contact St Mungo's immediately for potential quarantine._

…………..

The next day, Remus took James’s advice and met with Gwen for coffee. She was starting to look a lot healthier. Though still pale and tired looking (he probably looked the same, the full moon was less than a week away), her dark hair was washed and pushed back with a white scarf, and when she spotted him entering the cafe, her smile was genuine and warm. They exchanged pleasantries and chit-chatted about the weather. The waitress took their orders with practiced cheerfulness. They both remarked on her likeness to Celestina Warbeck when she was out of earshot. It was completely, utterly normal, and Remus began to feel very strange.

‘I’m nervous about next week,’ she said quietly, once they received their cappuccinos. 

‘It’s all right, I still get nervous every time, it’s painful,’ he said reassuringly. ‘Completely normal to dread it.’ 

‘It’s not that. I spoke to Dana last month. She’s excited because one of the old big names is getting out of prison. He’ll be there, I think. I just keep wondering what he’s been in prison for.’

‘I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,’ said Remus. ‘People wouldn’t be excited for him returning if he wasn’t a decent enough bloke.’

‘I suppose,’ she replied vaguely. ‘And I did think that about the whole colony at one point… Though…’

‘What?’ he prompted gently. 

She looked away, at the small vase of white heather in the window. ‘I keep wondering if it was one of them. Who did this to me.’

‘Decided it definitely wasn’t me then?’ he joked, but she didn’t laugh.

‘Who turned you?’ she asked. 

It was a very personal question, and usually he would have awkwardly refused to answer. But he found that it was easy to be honest with her; this kindred spirit who understood this awful condition but hadn’t yet let it change her, as it had done to those in the colony. 

‘Someone called Fenrir Greyback,’ he said calmly. 

‘Do you know him?’

‘Not at all,’ he said, scratching his temple absent-mindedly. ‘Though I think I would like to, one day.’

‘I still have to remind myself that whoever attacked me is a human,’ Gwen said. ‘Most of the time,’ she added as an afterthought.

‘I don’t mean to pry,’ he began, but Gwen gave a small smile and a slight shake of the head.

‘It’s all right. I’m curious about you too.’

‘Well how about I go first?’ he said. He glanced around the cafe. It wasn’t exactly empty, but they were tucked away in their own corner and the hum of conversation and jaunty tune playing on the gramophone gave them some semblance of privacy. 

‘I was bitten when I was a small boy, only five. I don’t remember much. I was asleep in bed and I woke in terror. I don’t even remember the pain, just the fear. My father heard the commotion and saved me, I suppose, but it was too late. My chest has most of the damage, which is lucky, really - had my face been scarred I don’t think I would have been able to go to school or get a job. It would have been impossible to keep secret.’

Gwen was frowning, her mouth slightly open. ‘Merlin, that’s… That’s awful,’ she said, her voice a whispered gasp. ‘That’s so young…’

Remus gave a half shrug. ‘Plenty of time to get used to it, I suppose.’ 

‘How on earth did he get in?’ she asked, her eyes wide. 

Remus leaned back, frowning slightly. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps my window was left open. The roof of my mother’s art shed was directly beneath it, it would have been easy to get in that way.’ 

Gwen looked staggered, she was shaking her head slightly. ‘From what I remember when I… Well, you know, when I’m like that… I just want to run. I don’t think I… Well, it doesn’t matter what I think, does it? I’ll never know what I would or wouldn’t do.’

Remus nodded. ‘I think that’s important to remember. People can be careless, but it’s impossible to plan. How could you, when you forget all sense of yourself?’ 

She nodded slowly, holding her coffee up near her face. ‘Yes…’

‘It’s all right to still think of your one as a terrible monster,’ said Remus soothingly. ‘They were a terrible monster, at that point. But that’s not the same as the person they are every day.’

‘They must remember, though,’ she said abruptly, her mouth a thin line. ‘I don’t remember at first, but it’s a bit like being drunk, isn’t it? Flashes come back to you later. After a few days I can more or less remember the whole night… At least I think I can.’ Her brow wrinkled in confusion. 

‘That’s the way it is for me too,’ said Remus. ‘But I can’t speak for others. And even if they can remember, that doesn’t mean they know who you are, or where to find you, or whether you would accept an apology from them.’ 

She drank from her coffee and there was a long pause before she spoke again. ‘I... ‘ she swallowed nervously. ‘I used to collect potion ingredients,’ she said. ‘I’ve been sacked now, obviously…’ Her eyes welled with tears. ‘I don’t know how much longer my savings will last…’

‘You told them?’ said Remus, with surprise. 

‘No, they were there. My colleagues. They saw. There was a little group of us. We were looking for fluxweed. If you pick it at full moon, it has various useful properties, it’s quite a common ingredient, but it’s increasingly hard to find because Muggles think it’s a weed. It grows on sandy or peaty soil, most commonly in East Anglia. We’d searched near Southwold in Suffolk and found nothing, so we thought we’d try further down the coast in Dunwich… Stupid, really, we knew it was pretty remote. We knew there’s always a risk in remote places…’

She straightened slightly, opening her mouth as she took a deep breath and dabbed under her eyes to compose herself. 

‘You don’t have to,’ said Remus gently. ‘We don’t have to talk about this.’

‘It came out of nowhere,’ she seemed to splutter, and her coffee cup gave a clatter as she knocked it slightly with her hand. Several people in the cafe turned to look at them; Remus realised with alarm that it probably looked like a couple breaking up. 

‘Sorry,’ she said, sniffing and blinking rapidly. 

‘It’s fine,’ he said quickly. ‘Really. Let’s… Let’s talk about something else.’ He scanned his brain desperately but could think of nothing.

‘Tell me about your new job,’ she said, sounding as desperate as he felt. 

He almost sighed with relief, and launched into a long and rambling speech on printworks that probably would have bored even Phil. 

…………………………..

‘You’re getting a lot quicker,’ remarked James, as Remus blocked another jinx. 

‘Maybe you’re getting slower,’ retorted Remus. With a flick of his wand, he sent a nearby sheet hurtling towards James, with the intention of it entangling him. 

James gave a sharp jab in its direction, it shredded into hundreds of pieces, and before Remus could react, James waved his wand again and cried, ‘waddiwasi!’ 

Two pieces of the grubby white sheet zoomed up his nostrils with such force that he was sent backwards, falling painfully onto his back and yelling, in a clogged up, stuffy way, as he pawed at his nose. He could hear Sirius, Peter, Lily and Emmeline howling with laughter. 

‘Slow, am I?’ said James smugly. 

‘Bastard! Levicorpus!’ 

James was swiftly hoisted into the air, arms flailing and glasses hanging off his pink face as he laughed. 

‘All right, all right,’ said Frank patiently, though Remus was sure he was holding back a smirk. ‘Fun little spells you have there, haven’t heard of them myself, but they’re not particularly useful against Death Eaters, are they?’

‘How dare you?’ said James indignantly, hands on his hips as he still hung upside down. ‘These are highly effective spells that we have used against a great number of enemies.’ Remus was still snorting out a piece of sheet, so only nodded his support. 

Frank gave a lazy swish of his wand and James fell ungracefully to the ground, still grinning in amusement. ‘Dumbledore will not take you on the raid if he doesn’t think you’ll take it seriously. This isn’t playground duelling, people die doing this stuff - you have to be prepared for life or death situations. ’ 

‘You want us to use unforgivables?’ squeaked Peter. ‘Because I won’t do that, Frank, I really won’t…’ 

‘Me neither,’ said Lily stubbornly. 

‘That’s not what I’m saying,’ said Frank calmly. He looked at them in a pondering sort of way. ‘You just need to be willing to be a bit more… Aggressive. Do you know the bloodfire curse?’ 

Sirius stiffened, but Remus didn’t have a clue, and from the expressions of everyone else, neither did they. 

Frank leant against the table they had pushed against the wall, looking remarkably like a teacher. ‘It’s a curse that causes no external damage, but leaves a line of internal burning. In severe cases it can kill, but it mostly just causes people to fall unconscious.’ 

‘That’s horrible,’ said Lily, aghast. ‘It must be terrifying.’ 

‘It’s not particularly pleasant, no,’ said Frank lightly. ‘And rather painful, or so I hear.’ 

‘It’s dark,’ said Sirius sourly. ‘I heard about it off my brother. It’s a dark spell.’ 

‘Lots of spells can be used in a dark way,’ said Frank casually. ‘Wingardium leviosa can be used to threaten or kill people over great heights.’

‘That’s different,’ said Lily, her eyes narrow. ‘This spell hasn’t got a good use, this is only used for suffering. I’d rather just use a disarming spell or a stunner. It’s quicker and-’’ 

‘You may think differently in the heat of a battle… Anger takes over you... Obviously I’d rather we’d just use stunners, but sometimes it’s just not good enough,’ said Frank. His gaze wandered to James. ‘You’re unusually quiet,’ he said with a slight smile. 

James looked rather perturbed; he seemed unable to look at Lily or Sirius. ‘How do you cast it?’ he asked. 

‘James!’ Lily gasped.

‘What?’ he said defensively. ‘I just would consider it, all right? Think about what they did at that cafe! I stunned one of them and within a few minutes one of his friends had cast Rennervate and he was back in the action!’ 

Remus found that he tentatively agreed. He thought about little Joey Lee’s face, and thought that whoever had caused that deserved nothing less. But the acknowledgement that someone might deserve it, and the thought that he could actually do it was quite different. 

‘I wouldn’t use it to deliberately hurt someone,’ James continued, still with that defensive edge to his voice. ‘Just to stop them. Make sure they can’t fight back and end up getting arrested.’

Frank nodded. ‘If you use it for any other purpose, you would rightfully be arrested. Whether any of you end up using it is another story, but I think you should at least have it within your capabilities.’

Sirius’s expression was strange; there was reluctance there, certainly, but also a dark determination as he stood. ‘It’s a last resort thing?’ he clarified. 

Frank nodded. ‘Of course it is.’ 

‘Well I’m not volunteering for everyone to practice on,’ said Peter, alarmed. 

‘We won’t practice on anyone,’ said Frank. ‘You’re not children anymore, you’ll be able to pick it up with an understanding of the theory behind it. Now, the incantation is perurio, and the wand movement is a heavy swipe down, like so…’ 

They began to practice, careful not to aim at one another, flashes of purple flames seemingly absorbing into the walls and floorboards, leaving no trace. Lily’s heart was clearly not in it; she only attempted the spell when Frank was looking at her, and her face was miserable. Emmeline was better, but, like Remus, seemed to have flashes of guilt when the curse was performed correctly. 

‘Bit of a melodramatic name, really,’ said Sirius. ‘Dark magic always seems to have unnecessarily evil sounding names.’ 

‘Well it’s meant to strike fear into the hearts of men, isn’t it?’ said James. ‘You wouldn’t be worried if it was the “lightly toasted organs curse”, but if someone threatens you with a bloodfire curse you know you need to get out of there quick.’ 

‘I’m just saying, dark wizards have a way with words,’ said Sirius, as he sent another string of purple flames harmlessly into the skirting board. ‘Maybe they would be happier if they wrote poetry or something.’

Sirius and James both seemed to have mastered it swiftly, with Remus and the girls not far behind, but Peter became increasingly flustered as he failed to produce the purple flames like everyone else. He shook his wand frantically, growling out the incantation with growing sloppiness as a blush grew over his cheeks.

‘You’re just making it worse for yourself, don’t worry,’ said James. ‘No need to get all worked up-’

‘Easy for you to say,’ snapped Peter, still red in the face. ‘Everything always comes naturally to you, doesn’t it?’ 

James’s eyebrows rose; he didn’t seem to know how to react to Peter’s unusual outburst. He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Emmeline’s sharp voice. 

‘What was that? Can you hear that?’ 

They all paused, and heard the faint sounds of shouting and clattering below. Then, loud enough to stand out from the rest of the noise, a deep, low cry of pain. 

They didn’t hesitate. All of them ran from the room, wands at the ready, adrenaline already kicking in ready for a fight. 

The sight in the hallway below them as they charged down the stairs was not a fight, but was nonetheless horrific. A trail of blood glinting on the dark floorboards, and a staggering mass of people who seemed to be unsteadily guiding someone through to the meeting room, half dragging him with his arms slung round their shoulders. 

‘Merlin, what’s happened?’ exclaimed Emmeline, as they heard Fabian’s voice shouting for Dorcas. 

They joined the bottle neck at the doorway to the meeting room, and now Remus saw that a few members of the Order were sporting minor injuries; Edgar seemed to be clutching his left arm to his chest, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore both looked battered and bruised - the ends of Sturgis’s straw-coloured hair seemed to be smoking slightly. 

‘What happened?’ he asked Sturgis. ‘What’s going on?’ 

‘We was ambushed,’ he said gruffly. ‘Old Moody got something nasty to the face.’ 

‘He looks terrible,’ said Marlene, turning around to speak to them in a hushed tone. ‘I think it’s really serious…’

‘Let me through,’ said Lily firmly, her face set in determination. ‘I’m assistant to Dorcas, let me through…’ 

As the crowd parted for her, Remus and the others nipped in behind, morbid curiosity and fear compelling them through the crowd that was craning their necks into the meeting room. Moody was reclined back in a chair, Dorcas and Professor Dumbledore standing over him, examining the grotesque wound.

His face was a mess of congealed blood, a dark shadow over the upper half of his left side. Remus thought he might be sick - even the blast at Diagon Alley hadn’t exposed him to injuries quite this horrific, or perhaps he had not taken the time to truly look. 

Moody was moaning thickly, blood occasionally splattering from his mouth. ‘Piece of hippogriff shit,’ he spat. ‘I’ll get him back for this Albus, you watch me.’ 

‘Lily,’ called Dorcas with a sort of calm urgency, ‘Reach into my pack and find the blood replenishing potion at once, then watch me carefully. I think the eye is gone, but I may be able to reconstruct the structure of zygomatic and lacrimal bone-’

Lily rushed forwards, pale-faced but with steady hands. Professor Dumbledore looked up at the gathered crowd. ‘Enough of that, thank you,’ he said, as though he had found them running in corridors. 

The crowd obeyed and filtered away from the room to give Moody his privacy. Remus felt rooted to the spot, but Sirius roughly pulled at his shoulder, and he shook himself out of it, stumbling after his friends as they slowly trudged away. 

 

Kingsley was sitting at the bottom of the stairs, his hands gripping at his afro, heavy bloodstains on his green Muggle-style trousers. 

‘Kingsley!’ said James, rushing forward. ‘What happened?’ 

Kingsley looked up, wiping a smear of blood off his face with the back of his hand. His jaw was set in fury. ‘We went to go and arrest someone for Dumbledore,’ he said hollowly. ‘But the info was wrong. They were waiting for us and outnumbered us. Moody was hit as soon as he went through the door.’ 

Sirius swore and began to pace. ‘Bastards,’ he muttered. ‘Sick bastards…’

‘Where did he get the info from?’ asked Peter curiously. ‘Surely now he knows that whoever-’

Kingsley shook his head with a murderous expression. ‘I don’t know. Only Dumbledore knows. But whoever did this to Moody-’

‘He’ll be all right,’ said James. ‘Dorcas and Lily will patch him up, he’s a tough old bastard.’ 

Kingsley nodded grimly. ‘It was a close shave though,’ he said. ‘Sturgis missed a killing curse by inches... And clearly someone’s messing us around. Giving false information and deliberately leading us into traps.’ 

‘I’m sure they didn’t do it on purpose,’ said James, still with that calm voice. ‘Come on, you need to get cleaned up.’ 

Sirius and James both heaved Kingsley to his feet. ‘I’m fine,’ he told him, and, as always, his voice was so smooth and calm that Remus almost believed him. ‘I’m training to be an Auror, I’m used to it all.’

‘Yeah, we know, mate,’ said Sirius. ‘But you look terrible.’ 

‘He’s right,’ said James. ‘You’re leaving bloody handprints everywhere, it’s depressing. Let’s go to the kitchen.’ 

They were not the only ones in the kitchen; Marlene and Lewis McKinnon were talking in low voices at the kitchen table, the Prewett boys had found some whisky. 

‘Where are the Longbottoms?’ Kingsley asked as he washed at the sink. 

‘They’ve gone with Edgar and Sturgis, they’re waiting to talk to Dumbledore,’ said Marlene solemnly. 

‘Do you think Moody will be OK?’ asked Gideon. 

‘Well he’s alive,’ said Kingsley. ‘And talking. Cheers,’ he added, as Fabian handed him a glass. ‘Could have been a lot worse.’ 

Remus took his too; the amber liquid emboldened him a little. The overwhelming feeling of horror as he thought of Moody’s wound gave way to anger, and he found that satisfying. There was a certain camaraderie in their shared anger, a knowledge that they were all strengthened to keep fighting. 

Kingsley finished washing, pulled his shirt back on and leant against the sink with a heavy sigh. He told them about the events of that evening, describing in detail how they had gone to arrest Evan Rosier in connection with the disappearance of a Cornish witch, on the assurance that he would be at the Winking Cyclops pub on the outskirts of Upper Flagley. Yet when they had arrived, the pub was closed, dark and empty. They had supposed he was hiding in there, so entered, only to be attacked immediately, and from all sides. 

‘We were lucky to get out of there alive,’ finished Kingsley bitterly. He swore. ‘Moody even said it was probably a trap, but we never thought there would be that many.’ 

‘Right, come on lads,’ came Edgar’s voice suddenly. They turned to see him in the doorway, grim-faced and wand in hand, a gaggle of angry-looking Order members behind him. ‘Get your cloaks, we’re off.’

‘Off where?’ asked Remus. 

‘Well we’re not standing for that, are we?’ said Alice, her lips pursed in determination. ‘No one does that to Moody and gets away with it. You coming, Kingsley?’ 

‘Absolutely,’ said Kingsley, rolling over the word with vicious enjoyment. 

‘We’re getting them back,’ said Frank. ‘Now, while we’re all feeling brave about it.’

Sirius had a look of dark excitement about him; Remus wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d licked his lips. ‘We’re off for a proper fight then?’

Edgar nodded. ‘We’ve persuaded Dumbledore to let us move the raid to tonight. You in?’

‘Should we? Tonight?’ asked Peter nervously. ‘Doesn’t it seem a bit rash? I mean, we were meant to do it next week and have longer to go over the-’ 

‘No time like the present,’ said Edgar. ‘And haven’t you lot been preparing for this raid for a while? Duelling practice and all sorts? And you all know what we’re looking for there, don’t you?’

‘Well, yes, but-’

‘Come on then.’ 

‘No,’ said James suddenly, and Remus spotted him glowering at Lily, who was lurking at the back of the group. ‘You’re not coming! I thought you were looking after Moody anyway?’

She drew herself a little taller, smoothing down her slightly blood-stained robes. ‘Well Dorcas is busy with him and someone with healing skills needs to be there. Not to mention I play a role in the whole scheme, it’s been that way since the start, so yes I bloody well am coming, James, I’m part of the Order just as much as you.’

‘Quite right,’ said Fabian, with a wink. ‘A bloody difficult woman. That’s what we like to see, eh, Gideon?’

‘Most certainly, Fabian.’ 

‘Lily,’ said Marlene softly, ‘How is he? Moody?’ 

Lily swallowed. ‘He’s lost an eye,’ she said calmly, though Remus could see the slightest of trembles at her chin. ‘But he’ll be all right.’ 

There was a brief silence. 

‘Right then,’ said Edgar briskly. ‘You all know the drill. They’ve found themselves a battered old farm in County Durham, got rid of the Muggles inside it, and turned it into their own little lair for tormenting people in. Not unlike the one they took me to last summer.’ 

‘Does everyone remember their roles and what to do?’ said Frank authoritatively. ‘You’ve all seen the plans and layouts, but if you need to remind yourself, now is the time to do so. You understand what we need?’ 

They all nodded. Remus privately would have liked to have looked again; unlike James, Sirius and Peter, he had not been able to practice and plan all day every day. He had simply received the summary in the evenings. But everyone else looked so impatient to go, that he felt they would decide to leave him behind if he said anything.

‘Are we just going to stand around chatting all day?’ snapped Sturgis. ‘Let’s get going.’

Remus had not been expecting to be part of a battle that night. He found himself afraid but devoutly thankful that by stroke of luck Frank had been teaching them more advanced curses, and by the look of Peter’s faintly green face as they gathered to Disapparate, he was too.

……………

The moon was cut firmly in half, but still gave enough ghostly light to bounce off the water of the rushing weir and silhouette the old stone buildings of the farm. 

Ahead of him, Remus saw Frank push one hand down, and he obediently and silently went down onto the damp grass with everyone else. They lay there, looking ahead and listening carefully. At first, all he could hear was the low, angry rush of the river. But as he strained his ears, he soon could hear Sirius breathing next to him, unintelligible faint whispers from Alice and Frank, and the slight rustle of Peter’s robes as he shifted uncomfortably. 

‘Remember lads,’ whispered Sturgis. ‘Find the documents, and then get out, don’t try and be a hero. As soon as we know you’ve got ‘em, we’ll take whoever we’ve managed to capture and go too. Getting the files is the most important thing.’ 

Alice twisted and looked back at them all. She gave a nod, then raised her hand and used her fingers to count down from three. 

He, James, Lily and Kingsley went one way. Alice, Edgar, Peter, Marlene and Lewis went another. Sirius, Sturgis, Frank and the Prewett brothers took the front of the farm. 

Remus’s heart thudded so loudly in his chest he wondered if the others could hear it. As they crawled awkwardly in the grass, their breath billowed in front of them. They dodged the light that spilled from the windows onto the field, and as they got closer, they began to hear the faint sound of voices. 

They crawled alongside the edge of an old barn. At one point it must have held cows, Remus could still smell them, but it was now empty and cold, except for a dark lump in the centre. Lily rose, and, still half crouched, hurried over to it. 

He couldn’t see her clearly, her shadow merged into the lump with only the faintest traces of movement, but soon she was back. 

‘Muggles,’ she said lowly. ‘Dead.’ 

‘Come on,’ said Kingsley. ‘The hayloft.’ 

The scurried across the farmyard, ducking behind rusted machinery and trying to run silently across the cobbles. Remus heard his boot scrape as he slipped on a clump of hay and mud, grabbing James roughly to stop himself from falling. 

James gripped his arm tightly and pulled him towards the hayloft. 

‘Quickly,’ he heard Lily hiss. 

They reached the hayloft, the bales stacked high and the air dusty, the vast wooden beams and pillars creating a cavernous arc above them. As they went deeper into the barn, it grew steadily darker, until Kingsley dared light his wand. 

In the blue light, they kicked away the fallen hay until they found a trap door, with heavy iron fittings and a rusted round handle. James leaned forward and tapped it with his wand, it opened steadily and quietly to nothing but blackness. 

Kingsley went first, then Remus. He put his wand between his teeth as he lowered himself down, his hands on the cold and grimy stone floor. It was just a short drop before his feet hit the floor of the cellar below; Kingsley had raised the light a little more, and Remus could see piles of barrels and dusty bottles in wine racks. 

‘Ready?’ Kingsley said, once James and Lily had dropped down too. They nodded. 

Remus had never felt so focused. As they climbed the creaky, rotten stairs to the door of the cellar, they could hear shouting and clattering; Frank’s team had begun the raid by bursting through the front door, and were no doubt locked in battle in the kitchen. The urge was to go and assist, but they had a job to do. 

Remus’s earlier concerns about having not seen the plans enough evaporated; he could picture the blueprints perfectly in his mind's eye, following Kingsley silently through a hallway as though he had been to the farmhouse a hundreds time before. 

The gaps around the door he knew led to the kitchen were lighting up like flashes of coloured lighting, he could nothing but the yelling and screaming of curses, but Sirius’s voice rang through the loudest, commanding someone to get on the floor. 

They were about to ascend the dark staircase, but heard the rumbling stampede of footsteps from the hallway above. Kingsley threw out an arm, and they darted into a shadowy corner, crouching and holding their breath as they prayed they wouldn’t be spotted - not yet. 

Two men, burly and ferocious looking, ran down the stairs, wands out. They didn’t glance to the corner at all, but headed immediately for the kitchen, wrenching the door open and charging in with deep, growling roars. 

Remus heard Lily give a low, relieved exhale, and he found himself swallowing too. They had no idea if more were upstairs, but they couldn’t wait long. 

‘I’ll go first,’ James whispered. ‘I’ve got my cloak.’ Kingsley gave him a sharp nod, and within seconds James threw the silvery invisibility cloak over himself. 

Now they waited, Remus acutely aware of how heavily he was breathing but unable to work out how to stop it. The door to the kitchen had been left open, and he could see the Prewett brothers through the gap, both of them dueling the same man, who seemed to be backing uneasily into the larder. He knew that soon Alice’s team would sweep through the rest of the house, looking for any hiders or prisoners. 

He vaguely heard a squeaking and saw a rat scurrying down the corridor out of the corner of his eye, but forced himself to look back up to the shadowy stairs, the little square landing before they curved out of sight. 

In what felt like hours but was more likely seconds, James appeared there, his head, one arm and half his torso bizarrely floating in midair. He gestured to them to follow, and they did so, trying their best to run up the creaky stairs without making a noise, though they surely would not have been heard from the kitchen anyway. 

James pulled the cloak off entirely as they reached the study, shoved it into the inside of his jacket and pulled out a cigarette. 

‘Really?’ said Lily dryly, and to his astonishment Remus found himself smirking. ‘Here? Now?’

‘I’m stressed,’ was James’s casual response as he lit up. ‘Kingsley, where d’you want me?’ 

‘You search the desk,’ Kingsley said. ‘I’ll take that bureau- Remus, Lily, will you-?’

‘On it,’ said Lily at once. ‘Come on, Remus.’

In one corner, barely noticeable from the doorway they had just entered, was a tall, narrow door. Behind it, steep steps led up to a tiny attic room, filled with trunks and boxes and piles of old books and newspapers. Lily rushed to a trunk and threw it open, Remus knelt by a stack of faded papers that were spilling over an old collapsed armchair. Up here, they could only faintly hear the fighting in the kitchen. Or perhaps it was that the others had successfully arrested them. 

They worked quickly, barely glancing at the papers and photographs in their hands as they rifled through them. After several minutes, Lily gave a heavy sigh. 

‘Would they really have put anything up here?’ asked Lily, an edge of frustration to her voice. 

‘They have to keep them somewhere,’ replied Remus, though he was also starting to wonder if this was simply an exercise in pointlessness. 

‘This is all Muggle stuff though, I don’t thi-’ Lily stopped suddenly, perfectly still as she stared back towards the stairs. From the room below, they could hear a low voice, and it certainly did not belong to James or Kingsley. 

With light feet, they crept back down the narrow staircase - Lily went first, as she was more nimble than Remus, so he found himself looking over her shoulder as they peered through the gap of the ajar door, knowing it would creak if they pushed it. Two Death Eaters had entered the study; they could see that one had pushed Kingsley to the floor and was holding his wand against the back of his neck, and the other was stood in front of James, swearing and spitting vicious threats at him. 

James was sat at the desk, looking remarkably relaxed for someone who had a wand pointed in his face. His hands were up, but he was still lazily leaning on his elbows, and the cigarette in the corner of his mouth added extra arrogance to his smirk. His wand lay on the desk in front of him; Remus supposed he had been forced to drop it, or perhaps in typical James fashion he had left it lying there anyway and been caught unawares.

‘...Drop them now and come quietly,’ the Death Eater was saying. Remus could detect a hint of nervousness in the voice. 

‘I don’t think it’s worth your time,’ James responded cheerfully. ‘We have what we need, and from the sounds of it my friends downstairs do too. It’s over.’ 

‘It’s over when I say it’s fucking over,’ said the Death Eater, his voice quavering almost to a shout. ‘Now hand it over and come with me, or we’ll kill your fucking friend, got it?’

‘I don’t think you will,’ said James, and, eyes still fixed on the Death Eater he slowly lowered one of his hands to take his cigarette, blowing a cloud of steady smoke. ‘You want us as bargaining tools, don’t you? You know some of your mates are arrested downstairs.’ 

‘Doesn’t stop me hurting you,’ warned the Death Eater. ‘And if you think you can handle what I’ll do to you, you’re stupider than you look. I’ll have you begging for death, and I’ll send you back to your mother piece by piece. You pathetic, mudblood-loving piece of shit.’

‘Maybe you’re right,’ said James simply. ‘But you’re also stupider than you look if you think you can win in a fight against my fiancee.’

Before the Death Eaters had a chance to respond, Lily and Remus burst into the room. Remus leapt forward with a ‘Stupefy!’ at the Death Eater holding Kingsley, but Lily shot forward like a bludger, screaming her spell with such a fury that Remus didn’t hear what it was. 

The Death Eater gave a bewildered shriek of pain; several small items dropped to the floor, shortly followed by the Death Eater himself as Lily rugby-tackled his legs. 

‘Caecus funeus,’ said James. The Death Eater jerked on the floor, his arms snapping to the sides and he began wriggling and wailing on the floor, as though bound by invisible ropes. ‘Nice one, Lils.’ 

There seemed to be a lot of blood around, and it wasn’t until Remus saw the small items that had dropped to the floor that he understood why. 

‘Lily!’ he said, astonished. ‘Are those his fingers?’

‘Yeah.’ She seemed highly unconcerned. 

‘Fucking hell, Lily,’ said James, though he looked very proud. ‘All that fuss you made about that curse earlier.’ 

A sudden pounding up the stairs, panting, someone shouting their names - they all spun to see Peter, Marlene and Lewis at the door. ‘We heard yelling-’ began Peter.

‘Nice of you to show up,’ said James. ‘Kingsley and I were being held hostage, and Lily cut off a man’s fingers.’ 

At his feet, the Death Eater gave another low, moaning wail. Peter’s eyes widened. ‘How did you do that?’ 

‘I’ll show you later,’ said Lily. 

‘Did you get it?’ asked Lewis urgently. ‘Did you find the-’

‘Course we did,’ James said, grinning cockily. He leaned back and picked up a pile of documents, with a triumphant flourish. ‘You lot have been busy, haven’t you? The full files of every employee in the Muggle Liaison office. Now who gave you copies of these?’ 

………………….

They were all roaring with laughter, crammed into the kitchen of the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Gideon and Fabian had broken out the whisky again, but this time the atmosphere was far less somber. 

‘Enjoyed your little victory speech, didn’t you?’ Remus was saying teasingly, leaning forward and pointing at James with his glass. ‘Rhetorical questions and all, you pillock.’ 

Everyone laughed again, and James held his hands up in mock shame. ‘Come on, come on,’ he called. ‘I’m sure you can understand, he got his little speech, then I got mine.’ 

‘Sat there with a right smug expression,’ added Kingsley. ‘Not a care in the world. Practically posing.’ 

‘Excuse me, Mr Auror-in-training, but I think you’ll find I did your job for you,’ said James, to a chorus of joking “ooh”s. ‘Thanks to me, the entire Muggle Liaison office is safe and some poor cowardly rat in the department is going to go into work on Monday and find himself promptly arrested for being a spy.’ Lily coughed loudly, and James quickly gave a dramatic gesture to her. ‘Of course, sorry, not just thanks to me, I should of course mention my surprisingly cool and worryingly vicious fiancee.’ 

Lily bowed her head in appreciation of the drunken and laughing applause she received. ‘Are you talking about the finger-removing jinx, or the way I tackled him?’ 

‘You tackled him?’ exclaimed Alice, with wide eyes. ‘Right on!’

‘That’s not fair,’ said Fabian. ‘I tried a bit of Muggle fighting myself, thought it would be more satisfying but I don’t think I’m cut out for it. I crept up behind one of them and tried to do that thing where you snap their necks, but all that happened was he looked to the left really quickly. Had to settle for a jinx instead.’ 

They descended once again into hysterics, Remus practically choking on his drink, Marlene wiping tears from her eyes. 

‘Seriously though, Lily,’ said Frank. ‘You removed a man’s fingers. Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you.’ 

‘Oh, he’ll get them back!’ said Lily with a slight roll of her eyes. ‘Assuming he gets medical attention fast enough.’ 

‘Any room in here for one more?’ came a gruff voice. 

There were cries, whoops and squeals of happiness as Moody came to join them, half his face heavily bandaged with a large patch where his eye used to be, and looking a little pale, but grinning and demanding a drink. Many of them took turns to embrace him, and when he saw that they had nearly finished the bottle of whisky, he raised his wand and summoned another bottle from his personal store. 

‘No, no, don’t open it!’ cried Lily. They all looked at her, bewildered and slightly pissed off that she apparently wanted to stop the party. ‘That looks like a really nice bottle,’ she said. I’ll go get us some wine instead, but that one should be saved.’ 

‘We have a lot to celebrate,’ said Gideon, looking rather amused. ‘If Moody wants to waste his nice bottle on us, let him.’ 

‘Nah, she’s right,’ said Moody. ‘I’m putting this one in the cupboard, and we’re not opening it til we get every bastard Death Eater in the country, and their fucking leader too!’

They gave an almighty cheer, a quill was whipped out, and the label of the firewhisky was promptly added to. 

_Not to be opened until the end of the fucking war._


	9. Chapter 9

The wireless crackled with a remote location in north Wales that month. Remus apparated there shortly before sun down, and climbed the rocky, scrub-covered hillside towards the curling pillar of bonfire smoke. 

His mother had grown up in south Wales, but he vaguely wondered if she had ever been here. It was a beautiful place; the last of the spring snow clung to the peaks of the hills in the distance, glowing a faint pinkish-gold in the dying light. His parents had met in a forest - they had often repeated the story fondly - and he supposed that his father might find this sort of place bleak and desolate, but Remus found it dramatic and adventurous. It reminded him a little of Hogwarts. 

‘Remus!’ 

A friendly wave from Gwen and Donna brought a slight smile to his lips as he approached. He still very much missed transforming with James, Sirius and Peter, but he was becoming more and more comfortable in the colony. It was not, as his father and Mr Ely had always led him to believe, a hive of nightmarish deviants but simply people who were a little rough around the edges. 

He greeted them happily when he reached them, Gwen actually stood and embraced him in a hug. ‘You’re late!’ she said, giggling. 

‘Am I?’ he asked, slightly disconcerted by her unusually chipper attitude. 

‘We’ve been waiting for you for ages!’ said Dana, who was also grinning madly. ‘We have someone for you to meet, look, over here - come and meet Sully!’ 

She pulled him excitably over to a huge, intimidating looking man, who sat on a rock and was surrounded by a halo of apparently awestruck admirers. He reminded Remus a little of the skinheads he had seen in Muggle London sometimes; his hair was shaved so short it was just the faintest shadow on his large skull, a small black tattoo of a cross was inked to the middle of his forehead and the word WOLF was tattooed across his knuckles. One ear sported a small silver hoop; it glinted in the sunlight. When he looked up at Remus, he grinned widely, and his teeth were crooked and chipped. 

‘This is the new kid, is it?’ he said, his accent a thick and harsh Mancunian. Remus had an immediate and instinctive understanding that Sully’s opinion of him was the only one that mattered.

‘Sully just got out of Azkaban,’ said Dana gleefully, clutching Remus’s arm as she gazed happily at the man. ‘And he brought us gifts.’ 

‘Gifts out of prison?’ said Remus incredulously, and though he had a momentary panic that he had highlighted himself as an outsider, they all just laughed. 

‘Things aren’t so bad, you can get what you need if you’re resourceful,’ said Sully, with an oddly dark chuckle. He considered Remus for a moment, scratching at his badly shaven face. ‘Well sit then,’ he said. 

Should he obey? Would that show him as meek and vulnerable? Would Sully respect him more if he declined? He didn’t have the courage to try, and instead sat on the scratchy, damp grass next to Alf, who was looking up at Sully as though he were a prophet. 

‘Where’re you from?’ asked Sully. 

‘All over,’ said Remus. ‘Never stayed in one place too long.’ 

‘Been one of us a while, ‘ave ya? How come you’ve never bin round here?’ he asked when Remus nodded. 

Remus was very aware of everyone staring at him. ‘Parents,’ he ended up saying lamely. 

‘Looked after ya, did they?’ Remus nodded again, and Sully smiled. It was unpleasant, but perhaps that was just because of his teeth. ‘That’s nice,’ he said, though Remus got the distinct impression he was mocking him. ‘Dana here says you got yerself a job.’ 

‘Yes…’ 

‘What do you do?’ 

Remus’s heart was hammering. He didn’t want to tell this man anything about his life. He want to keep the colony, everything, separate from the real world. He felt as though Sully were about to leap forward and attack him. 

‘Not much, just odd jobs when I can get them… As I said, never in one place too long.’ 

Sully didn’t say anything, just stared at Remus with an odd little smile. This was the first time, except perhaps when he had approached them on that first night, that Remus had felt in any danger in the colony. 

‘Know who turned you?’ Sully asked abruptly. 

Remus nodded. ‘Fenrir Greyback.’ 

‘Ah.’ Sully gave an upwards nod of the head, and continued to smile oddly. 

‘Do you know him?’ asked Remus, more bravely than he felt. 

‘Yes. Old mate still in Azkaban. He’ll be out soon.’ 

 

There was more silence, only the crackling of the bonfire behind them. The sun was now low in the evening sky, bathing them in a faint red. Dana, apparently uneasy with the lack of conversation, took a deep breath and leaned forwards. 

‘He’s got a house an’ all, Sully. That’s why he don’t live with us.’ 

‘Must be nice,’ said Sully again, and this time Remus detected something threatening in his voice. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and staring down at Remus. Remus’s instinct was to lean away, but he held fast, staring coolly back. ‘I bet you hate transformations, don’t yah? Softie like you.’ 

Remus didn’t say anything for a few seconds. ‘No one likes transformations,’ he said at last. 

Sully’s smile widened. ‘Want to see my gift from prison?’ When Remus didn’t answer, Sully reached into the depths of his cloak and pulled out a grubby looking vial filled with an inch of thick liquid. In the growing darkness, it glowed slightly, a pale, sickly-looking green 

Dana let out a manic giggle. ‘Give us some more, Sully!’ 

Sully winked at her. ‘You had your share, you’ll bleed me dry, you cheeky girl.’ 

‘I’ll pay you, Sully,’ said Alf, eyeing it greedily. ‘Go on, why should the new kid get any? He doesn’t even live with us. He doesn’t need it.’ 

‘We gave the other new kid some, didn’t we?’ said Sully, giving Gwen a strange leer. Gwen swayed as she laughed. Remus now wanted to get up and leave. Something wasn’t right and he felt as though he were standing on the edge of a crumbling cliff. 

‘Every had whimsy before?’ asked Sully. ‘Really takes the edge off it all.’ 

‘No,’ said Remus. He was trying not to look at Sully now. It wasn’t that he was completely opposed, per se. He’d shared a doobie with the others now and then, and as young men they all drank regularly, but there was something inherently untrustworthy about Sully. It didn’t feel like a bit of relaxed fun with friends anymore, it was more like a test. 

But Dumbledore surely would be interested in this man that had just left Azkaban and captured the attention of the others. His trust was vital. 

‘It’s an extract from a magical mushroom,’ said Gwen, still breathless with laughter. ‘Nothing to worry about. You can trust me, I used to collect potions ingredients. Back when I had a job.’ She fell about laughing as though she had made the funniest joke in the world. 

‘He’ll waste it,’ moaned Darren, looking resentfully at Remus. ‘Come on, Sully, I’ll pay you back.’

‘We should be polite to our guests,’ said Sully calmly. 

‘I’m not a guest,’ said Remus. ‘I come here every month.’ 

‘Well I haven’t seen you before, so I say you’re a guest,’ replied Sully coldly. ‘Are you going to take it, or what? I’m making you a very generous offer, you know.’ 

Gwen seized his arm suddenly, her face more excitable and alive than Remus had ever seen it, talking rapidly. ‘The Amanita virosa is a magical fungi commonly found at the base of wand-worthy beech trees and is- it is-’ she descending into snorting laughter. ‘It’s a magical clonal mushroom that is unique but has lived for thousands of years - hah!’ Gwen seemed to struggle to breathe, but continued to talk nonetheless. ‘It is combined with a linking agent for symbiosis and… It…’ She seemed to lose her trail of thought and stared intently into the fire. 

‘Nice little lesson there,’ said Sully, drawing Remus’s attention back to him. ‘But I bet you feel very ill, don’t you?’ 

‘Yes,’ Remus found himself saying honestly. It was true that he felt feverish and sick and just wanted to lie down. His muscles ached. 

‘This will help,’ said Sully. 

Remus’s inner voice, which irritatingly sounded like his father, pointed out that people don’t give out this sort of stuff for free. But this wasn’t like normal school peer pressure (which he’d never been much good at fighting anyway), this was something he had to do for the Order. If he could gain their trust… He briefly imagined himself proudly announcing the information he had gathered at an Order meeting, no longer caring or feeling ashamed that he was revealing his darkest secret. Everyone was pleased; they nodded seriously and asked his opinion - Moody and Edgar taking particular note, Peter looking to him for advice instead of James and Sirius… That it might make him feel better than he did wasn’t exactly a negative either… 

‘Thanks,’ he said, reaching out a surprisingly steady hand. 

Sully’s eyes narrowed as he smiled. He let Remus’s fingers close around the vial completely, and rest there for a second before he let the vial go. 

‘You have to drink it,’ Dana whispered loudly in his ear, before she and Gwen and a handful of others fell about in spluttered laughter once again. 

Remus prised the cork out of the top of the vial, and raised it to his lips. The extract was thick, gloopy, and unpleasant. He tried not to cough as he downed it, but it was so thick that it was rather hard to drink it at all. He could only imagine how Sirius and James might have teased him if they could see. 

Nothing happened at first, there was humourous scattered applause and a few grumbles that it had been wasted on him, but Remus felt no different. He looked at Gwen who grinned sloppily at him. 

‘Good man,’ said Sully, standing and clapping him on the shoulder as he did. ‘Alf, c’mere, lad,’ he called, and then his voice began to trail off as Remus started to feel very strange. 

There were no walls, but it was as though the very world was shrinking in on him. A prickling tingle crawled across his skin. The corners of his mouth seemed to be hooked as they were pulled up into a smile, and he immediately felt embarrassed for the moronic grin that was surely crossing his face. That only made him laugh as he pictured it. 

Suddenly Gwen was laughing with him, and he felt joyfully happy, euphoric even. The flames from the fire leapt into the air and danced, they fell like rain, it was ridiculous so he laughed again. 

His head felt strange. If he didn’t move it, it would fall off. 

‘Don’t be daft, of course it won’t,’ said Sirius’s voice.

Yes it will, he told himself. 

His shoulders were shaking with laughter. He tilted his head back, rolling it around. The sky was a riot of colour; great clouds of orange and purple and blue, smeared with red. Soon it would turn to black, and that frightened him. He was laughing still, but it was more panicked now; his chest felt tight. Perhaps the sky would smother him. He was sure the fire was getting closer. 

Was he breathing heavily? Was he breathing at all?

‘Remus,’ sang a voice. The voice made him think of white; blinding, smothering white. ‘Remus…’ 

He stood, walking away, but the very ground was dancing and shifting beneath him. He looked down into valley. A huge herd of deer trotted across it, bigger than any animal he had ever seen. They dwarfed the tiny houses in the distance, their heads reaching out to nibble the tops of mountains. He stared at them as they shimmered and flickered, then, with such monstrosity that he felt frozen to the spot, they seemed to crumple and suffocate, a thick black smoke encircling them like a snake, their eyes bulging and tongues lolling out grotesquely. 

‘Remus,’ came the white voice again. Something warm slipped into his hand, and he turned to see Gwen. Her eyes were wide, her smile dazzling. She seemed to glitter and shimmer, he wasn’t sure if time was sped up or slowed down - everything shuddered and halted. The sound of his own breathing seemed to deafen him. 

The darkness was rolling in, that familiar predatory animal; he saw it’s snarling teeth and piercing eyes running alongside him. Suddenly Gwen’s arms were around him, and he leaned into her. Her lips were on his. 

He sank into it, the strange, confused, white oblivion, only deciding to do things once he had already done them. The air was suddenly cool on his bare flesh, like the rush of water from the lake. He could hear joyful laughter and incomprehensible talking, he was aware of Gwen, and suddenly he found that she made him deliriously happy. 

He wanted her, and had never had a woman like this before. It was like being normal, this must be what it was like, he realised. This exhilarating, glorious rush. 

His hands were everywhere, at her breasts and thighs, gripping her close, he was moving closely to her, there was warmth there, his head was spinning and all he could hear was breathless gasps and still that rush of water. A great shudder and then they were apart, suddenly cold once again. He saw in the great, heavy black sky, the deers leaping once again, their eyes hollowed out. 

‘Here he comes,’ he heard Gwen say, laughing. ‘Here comes the monster moon.’ 

There it was, pale and terrible. The clouds parted, the light fell on him brighter and more dazzling and whiter than ever before. He felt the pain, but it did not belong to him, and he fell away to another world entirely. 

…………………………

When he woke, he was drenched in blood. 

His head was pounding. He stared down at his shaking hands, stained brown and red, and began to breathe quickly. He searched his mind, but it was blank. He could not remember a single thing from the previous night. It would come, he tried to tell himself, it was always like this at first, and then it came in drips and drabs and gradually he would piece it together.

He remembered that Sirius and James and Peter always stopped, or tried to stop, him from killing animals, always told him they got away even when he remembered later that he had chased them down and slaughtered them like a vicious predator. 

He was also naked. By now, after a few months at the colony he no longer felt that rush of embarrassment, but this time it was different. He remembered what he had done. He realised people must have seen. 

Was it possible to sink into the ground and die? He certainly wanted to. 

He scrambled shakily up, vomit rising in his throat, but he swallowed and gagged it down. Some people had already woken; they were sitting in the usual daze, or still lying on the ground. All of them seemed to have splashes of blood on them, just like him. He staggered to the edge of the valley he had been standing at the night before, realising with relief that a large outcrop may have offered them some privacy. Though he realised he was probably just telling himself that. 

He found his discarded robe and snatched it roughly off the ground. He felt so dizzy that he may as well have been standing on one leg as he tried to put it back on. 

‘Hi.’ 

He roughly pulled the collar of the robes over his face, and saw, with horror, Gwen standing awkwardly in front of him. She was blushing heavily, and, like him, had blood matted into her hair. 

‘Hello,’ he said back. 

‘Um…’ She swallowed. She opened her mouth as though to say something, but then looked away. ‘Sorry… For pouncing on you like that.’ 

‘It’s fine,’ he said quickly, though it was very much not fine. 

‘It’s been a while,’ she said awkwardly. ‘We can… Just put it behind us.’ 

‘Right, yeah. Of course.’ 

She nodded, and seemed to swallow again. ‘OK… Well… I don’t have the energy to apparate yet. I heard Sully went to the caravans to get some stuff for breakfast if…’ 

‘Nah, I’d better get back.’ 

‘Right.’ 

‘Yeah… Hey, er… Do you… Do you know why we’re covered in blood?’ 

She blinked, looking vaguely down at her hands. ‘No.’ She looked back up, suddenly smiling. ‘It was a lot easier with that potion, wasn’t it? Fun, almost.’ 

He hadn’t been smiling, but his face fell anyway. He gave a slow nod as he swayed. ‘Sure. I’d better go. I’ll see you soon.’ 

He didn’t take notice of her sad face as he twisted and disapparated. 

He landed on the street outside the house. He hadn’t even bothered to think of a place sheltered from the view of Muggles, but he had been lucky, and no one was around. He swayed, then leaned forward and vomited over the pavement. The world was tipping again. 

He staggered to the steps, trying to stay focused on the bright red door, but he was almost seeing double. 

When he let himself in, he heard James’s familiar call from the kitchen. 

‘All right? How was it? Did- Fucking hell!’ His face paled and his chair scraped loudly against the floor as he rose and rushed over to Remus, catching him as he started to slump against the doorway of the kitchen. 

‘Sorry,’ mumbled Remus, as James pulled one of his arms over his shoulder. ‘Sorry…’ 

‘You’re covered in blood! What happened?’

Remus’s face grew hot, and to his great shame his words came out as a sob. ‘I don’t know… I don’t know, I don’t remember…’ 

‘It’s all right… Come on, mate… It’s all right…’ James half carried, half guided Remus to the sink, and, still supporting him, turned on the tap. 

‘Oh, God…’ moaned Remus, as he watched the water swirl crimson around the plug. 

‘It’s fine,’ said James reassuringly. ‘It’s probably yours, you’re all cut up, let me get Lily-’

‘No, it’s not, I know it’s not,’ said Remus, panic rising once again. 

‘You don’t know that, not yet.’ He twisted away from Remus, and called loudly for Lily.

‘We were all covered in blood, all of us-’

‘Who? This colony you’ve been hanging out with?’

‘Yes-’

‘What’s going on?’ came Lily’s voice, as orderly and businesslike as Madam Pomfrey had ever been. ‘Remus?’ 

James was saying something, but Remus could only hear the deep baritone of his voice, mumbling and rhythmic. The world was spinning again, and he wasn’t aware of time passing as hands gently guided him… Soon he was in his bed… Something wet and soft was pressed against his forehead, dabbing at the cuts on his arms and chest…

He opened his eyes what he thought was immediately, but the heat of his room and the faint noise of traffic outside prompted him to believe it was midday.   
‘Feeling better?’ 

His head shifted on the pillow to see Lily smiling calmly down at him. ‘Tough night?’

‘I kept seeing things,’ he told her immediately. 

‘That’s how eyes work, mate,’ she said cheerfully. 

‘No, I mean, I was hallucinating.’ He hesitated. ‘They gave me something. A potion. Made from a mushroom.’ A frown was slowly crossing her face. ‘Whimsy, I think it-’

‘Oh Remus, you didn’t?’ she sighed. 

‘I-’

‘Merlin, we all pass round a doobie now and then but whimsy’s a whole other story-’

‘How do you know about it and I don’t?’ he demanded. ‘You’re muggleborn!’

‘I guess I’m just cooler than you,’ she said cheekily. When he didn’t laugh, she smiled sympathetically. ‘I was quite good at potions, you know, and unfortunately had a habit of being patient with unsavoury characters.’ 

He pushed his head back deeper into the pillow and sighed, closing his eyes. ‘It was so stupid… I didn’t feel like I had a choice, but-’

‘It’s all right,’ she said kindly. ‘It’s just that it’s very addictive, Remus. I mean, seriously, it’s hard stuff. Don’t go near it again.’ 

‘I know,’ he said miserably. ‘I did something really stupid.’ 

‘You don’t know the blood is anything serious, it was probably a rabbit-’ she began. 

‘Not that, although that’s something I’ll need to find out.’

‘What then?’ 

‘I can’t tell you,’ he said, flustered. 

She quirked an eyebrow with a slight smirk. ‘Fine, you can talk to the boys about it when I’m not around. In the meantime, I’ve put essence of murtlap on your cuts, and think you should stay in bed the rest of the day. I’ve put a bowl down here if you need to throw up.’

‘Lily-’

‘Don’t worry. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when I think you can stomach some food.’ 

‘Thanks.’ 

‘Don’t mention it.’ 

……………….

He remembered now. Or perhaps he only thought he did. Perhaps he had constructed it, or mixed it up with the hallucination. Perhaps it was the other way round, and he was remembering something he did as the hallucination. He had no idea. Everything was confused.

He remembered, the heavy, panting rush. The flashes of grey as the rest of the pack darted around him. The thundering of hooves as the herd of deer charged across the scrub, nowhere to hide. Sinking his teeth into the throat, the warm rush of blood and the bulging eyes, delicious and thrilling. 

He could not tell James. He wasn’t sure how he would ever be able to look at him again. For years he had ran alongside a proud stag. Maybe he had never realised, maybe some tiny corner of him still existed in the wolf’s mind. He had never hunted Prongs like that. He had fought him, certainly. When James had tried to stop him from going where he wanted or ended his chase of some small creature. But never, in the years they had run beneath the moon together, had he attacked him like that. 

Yet last night he had chased them. An entire herd. He had killed one, he was sure of it. Or was he sure? Was he imagining that metallic taste? Was he confusing his hallucination? Had it been a deer’s tongue that had lolled out? A deer that had screamed and struggled beneath him? Or had it been a child? A Muggle? He remembered the tiny houses in the valley. Had he been down there? He could not recall. 

That evening, Sirius and James were out, tearing around London on the motorbike. Lily was busy cleaning the kitchen, as she was prone to do, much to the boys’ collective bewilderment. Remus was grateful for the relative isolation. As his energy began to return to him, he rose out of bed, slipped silently down the corridor, and gave a whisper-quiet knock on Peter’s door. 

‘Hello?’ Peter called curiously. 

Remus entered, and gave an awkward flash of a smile. ‘Mind if I have a quick chat?’

Peter seemed surprised and a little flustered. He had been reclining on his bed reading a comic, but now he scrambled up, gesturing hastily at the orange-gingham beanbag. Remus sat uncomfortably on it, feeling rather foolish. 

‘What’s up?’ When Remus seemed unsure of where to begin, Peter prompted gently, ‘James said you turned up covered in blood.’ 

‘Yeah.’ He paused, and then launched into a rambling account of what he remembered from the previous night. Peter listened silently - he had not yet mastered the art of nodding or making listening noises, but he didn’t interrupt or question, nor did he comment on Remus’s increasing blush. 

‘Firstly, it was almost certainly a deer,’ said Peter firmly. ‘We’d have heard if a person had been attacked, Lily’s had the wireless on all day. Secondly - have you told James about this?’ Peter asked. 

‘No, of course not. How can I?’

‘Good. Best not mention it to Sirius either. You know he can get a little…’ Peter shrugged and shook his head as he struggled to find the word. ‘He’s being odd at the moment, anyway.’ 

‘What d’you mean?’ 

‘Jealous of Lily, I think,’ said Peter, lowering his voice despite there being little chance of them being overheard. ‘Just generally being a bit quick to anger. A bit over-protective. Haven’t you noticed?’ Remus shook his head, his heart sinking a little. ‘I wouldn’t worry, Moony. You’ve had a rough night, it happens. You stumbled across some deer, and none of us were there to stop you. I hate to tell you, but there have been a few times when you’ve gone for James.’ 

‘There have?’

‘Yeah, of course. All of us at one time or another, but that’s what made us such a great team. That was the whole point of it all. None of us came to any harm.’ 

‘You could have done,’ said Remus, balking. ‘I thought it was just small creatures I could kill, I never thought I could bring down something as large as a deer.’

‘Well, you didn’t, did you? Not on your own, you said there were others there.’ Peter frowned. ‘Why didn’t you tell us that’s what you were doing? We all thought you were annoyed at us.’ 

‘James knows,’ said Remus. ‘But I couldn’t tell you, Dumbledore didn’t want me to. I’m going to tell him I won’t do it anymore though.’ 

Peter nodded. ‘Good man. I don’t see the point in it anyway. None of them were Death Eaters, were they?’ Remus shrugged again. ‘Besides,’ added Peter. ‘You can’t just skip over the part where you had sex.’ 

He gave a groan of embarrassment. ‘Don’t, it’s awful. So stupid of me.’ 

‘Oh come on,’ said Peter, grinning broadly. ‘At least you got something good out of it all. Don’t you like her?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Remus awkwardly. ‘Maybe. I think I might just feel sorry for her. That’s not really the same.’

‘It’ll do,’ said Peter, shrugging. ‘What were her knockers like?’

‘Merlin, Wormtail...’

‘What? Sirius would give me the details.’ 

‘Well I won’t.’

‘You don’t realise how lucky you are. I wish someone would feel sorry for me in that way. Not you, obviously,’ he added hastily. 

‘I thought Sirius and James were going to find you a pretty Muggle girl?’ said Remus slyly. 

‘Are you joking? Can you imagine the look on my dad’s face? I’m enough of a disappointment as it is. Perhaps if it was just one time it would be all right,’ he added as an afterthought.

‘You really don’t think I should tell James, then? Or Lily?’

‘No point, it’ll just upset everyone, you included. Put it out of your mind.’ He paused. ‘What was it like though? The sex?’

‘I’m going to go and see if there’s any dinner leftover,’ said Remus hastily. 

‘Please! I won’t laugh!’ said Peter hurriedly as Remus made a beeline for the door. 

‘I barely remember it!’ 

‘Any details will do!’ shouted Peter desperately, but Remus had darted back to the relative safety of his own room.

It wasn’t that he was trying to avoid the others over the next few days, he simply kept missing them. At least, that was what he told himself. A small part of him realised that he always had a convenient excuse to loiter behind his door whenever he heard someone on the landing, or take his dinner up to his room to eat, or even find extra work to do at the print shop so he didn’t have to go home for a few hours. 

He wondered if he was being ridiculous, but he was sure that he would eventually end up blurting out what he had done. Of course they would understand, they always did, but he was sure that eventually their patience would wear thin with him. He often found himself lying awake at night, imagining the looks on their faces as they began to fear him. 

He thought too, about the little vial of whimsy. He had not enjoyed it like Gwen had. He had found the entire experience frightening and disconcerting. Perhaps she had needed the escape, he reasoned, but everything he did was to keep control. Even so, it was hard to ignore how much less painful it had been. When he pictured the next month, he found that he was imagining whimsy as an expected part - a moment he neither looked forward to nor dreaded, but bound with certainty. He decided, many times, to tell Dumbledore that he would not return; that he was finished with it, it didn’t seem like it had been helpful anyway, that there had to be something else he could do. But then the guilt would come; he was Dumbledore’s only access to that strange group of monsters, and the return of Sully was bound to be important to monitor. 

Conflicted, he turned it over so many times in his mind that he almost became apathetic to it, secluding himself away from everyone else and sitting, alone and silent in his room, his mind racing with thoughts despite his lethargic mood. 

Perhaps Lily was aware, for one very early morning (he had risen on the assumption everyone else would still be asleep) she cornered him in the kitchen as he awkwardly hovered by the toaster. 

‘You won’t be having that stuff again, will you?’ she demanded, handing him a jar of raspberry jam with surprising fierceness. ‘Next month.’ 

‘No,’ he said. He took the jar without really looking at her. 

‘Good, because I’m not having you moping about it every time. Pull yourself together. And when are you going to start talking to us all again?’

‘I am talking to you all, we’re talking right now.’ 

Lily was very talented at simply looking her disapproval. 

He took a breath, ready to make some vague comment about taking his breakfast upstairs to eat in bed, but she seized his plate of toast and planted it firmly on the table. She then leant out of the kitchen door and screamed ‘breakfast!’ up the stairs. 

Feeling rather flustered but appreciative, Remus obediently sat and opened the jam jar. Soon there was a rumble of footsteps and James, Sirius and Peter arrived, all of them offering Remus a cheery good morning before busying themselves with breakfast, as though nothing was wrong at all. He swiftly realised that this had all been planned, and his heart warmed slightly. His eyes caught Lily’s and she gave him a small, smug smile. He gave a surprised, spluttered chuckle in grateful return, and heartily joined in teasing Sirius for using the last of the milk.


End file.
